Pretty Little Thing, Don't Get Upset
by Watson-A-Name92
Summary: It was neither his nor her fault that he couldn't stop thinking of her and vice versa. They felt it was simply the events that Fate dealt them in this war. One problem- Fate has more in store for them than they thought. Scabior/Hermione
1. You Feel So Good You Make Me Stutter

**A/N: So, along with most of the female Harry Potter fans, I saw the 7th book and found myself interested in Scabior more than the others and the whole scene with him and Hermione got to me... it was hawt. Anyways, I got bored after seeing the movie, so this was born.**

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"Hello, Beautiful."

Hermione Granger was torn in an instant. The lead Snatcher was practically on top of her now. He had closed the fair distance between them in a couple of seconds flat. She whimpered, feeling like he was too close for comfort. However, when she accidentally looked him in the eye, that changed. His eyes- bright, blue grey eyes that seemed to hold something else other than the evil that there was no doubt he had done in his past. The feeling of discomfort faded and was replaced by… Curiousity? Interest? What the bloody Hell? When he ran his hand down her cheek, she squirmed away, although part of her subconscious wanted to lean forward and lean into him.

The moment was over just as soon as it had began, and she let out a shaky breath, left unnoticed by the Snatcher… or so she thought.

* * *

Upon seeing the girl, Scabior was entranced. When he called her beautiful, he was speaking the truth… or maybe just thinking with a certain something below the belt. The pretty little thing was indeed a new breed of beautiful, especially for a mudblood. He snorted. He wasn't completely gone like his comrades were. He himself was the son of a pureblood and a half-blood, so there was muggle blood present in his own veins. However, he still made his living hunting and delivering witches and wizards with 'dirty blood.' Go figure. He was still lost to her appearance when he ran his hand down her cheek. He restrained a smirk when she shuddered at his touch. He was confident her reaction wasn't quite from fear. He turned his attention back to the other two. Time to get back to work. The pretty little distraction could wait.

* * *

Hermione was terrified as Fenrir practically launched her over a fallen log when they had to cross over it.

The lead Snatcher had said they were going somewhere they hadn't planned after he had seen Harry's scar. She knew exactly what that meant. They were headed for Voldemort. Any chance she got, she tried to scramble away, but Fenrir always managed to yank her back. When she was simply contemplating running, a look from the head Snatcher stopped her. Was he warning her not to? Was he threatening her? She couldn't tell. Once she righted herself and glanced back at the Snatcher, he was fiddling with a scarf- her scarf that she had tied on the tree before, she realized.

Every so often, he would smell it and look at her.

She bit her lip. He knew it was hers. Again, she was torn between fear and a sick sense of excitement. Why was she thinking this way? She stopped and snapped her head in the other direction when he glanced over at her again. She looked back out of the corner of her eye, and frowned. Did he just smirk when he saw her look the other way? Why did it suddenly occur to her that the smirk made him attractive… no, he was attractive in general…. Where was all this coming from? She wanted to drop to her knees, cover her ears and block it all out. He was the _enemy_. He was turning the three of them into _Voldemort..._ or at least a serious Death Eater. She flinched when the werewolf that had turned Lupin tightened his grip on her wrist. She let out a pained yelp, and saw the Snatcher look at her again, this time with alarm in his eyes, due to her yelp. He turned to Fenrir and… was that a glare in the werewolf's direction? Was he worried. "Fool," she muttered to herself. He probably just wanted her in one piece before they reached wherever they were being taken. The price was probably better that way. Voldemort wanted them alive so he could kill them himself. 

_

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_

Little did he know, it was. The last few minutes had gone slowly for Scabior, mostly because he had established that the girl- Penelope Clearwater, if that was even her real name, was indeed different than other targets. He found he liked different and wanted to keep her as opposed to turn her in. He knew it was impossible, all the same. Money didn't grow on trees, after all. He started to formulate a plan. He would get his payment for snatching them, then snatch her right back. Would it work? Who knows, but it would be worth it. If the girl didn't like the plan either, so be that as well.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure what to think when they reached the Malfoy Manor and Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters knocked around the Snatchers for challenging them and Merlin only knew what else. It wasn't that she disapproved, but she was getting sick of the fighting that she knew was unavoidable. When the head Snatcher was being choked, the mixed feelings came back and she felt sympathy for him. She wrestled it back. These people were dangerous. They could fend for themselves and they had, which landed them there, on the floor, howling or gasping in pain. She had no idea she'd be in a similar spot within moments… a spot that was similar, but far worse. And as she lay bleeding on the floor, those blue eyes came back to her mind, but there were no mixed feelings. Now there was only blame.

* * *

Scabior had managed to scurry out of the manor after he and his men had practically been used as mops then tossed aside. He had straightened himself out and was ready to storm out and leave when he hard feminine screaming coming from inside. It hadn't come from the black-haired bitch who had hired him then humiliated him. It was too high- not to mention to human. There was no doubt it was his pretty little thing's. He let out a possessive growl, but didn't go back in. No sense in going back when he knew he'd be thrown back out right away. No, he would wait to take back his prize. He didn't have long to wait. Bellatrix came out, shrieking about the group of them escaping. He smirked and got up, then headed for the gates, with two of his men following.

"You there! Where do you think you're going?" Their latest employer shrieked.

He turned around and started walking backwards, offering a mock salute in one fluid motion. "Keeping track of our… package, boss." He winked, then went through the gate.

The chase was back on.

Good. He always did enjoy a challenge.

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**A/N: Bah. I know it's super short. Next chapter will be longer with less bulk and more dialogue.**


	2. Turn Around and Run Away

**A/N: I dunno why I'm even saying this since the only people reading probably are doing so because they fell for movie!Scabior as I said, so they know the ending, but either way, the first paragraph has a major spoiler, unlike the mini semi spoiler that the last one did. **

**As for the reviewers, thanks for the praise, and for half of you that agreed with my point of the author's note, yay for people who see awesomeness in the middle of creepiness. **

**Anyway, this chapter is really short. It's kinda filling in the last few minutes of the movie… I have to go back to the book now to continue. I apologize for how short it is. Hopefully that won't turn you off from this.**

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As Hermione's final tears for Dobby were shed, she settled for being alone, because Harry had completely shut down and Ron had taken to going between the two to check on each of them. She was curled up against a rock, thinking back to the torture she had somehow survived, only a few hours before. Her mind tried to grip everything that had happened. Their capture, Bellatrix toying with their minds, then the Snatchers. She wanted to hit something again when she recalled feeling bad for the lead Snatcher when Bellatrix attacked him for trying to come to his man's aid. Why did she feel bad for them- well, one of them, anyway, who had just turned them into the woman who had tortured her? Why? Then again, when he was right in front of her, smelling her, cooing to her, he hadn't seem totally… evil. She had sensed the danger he represented, but it also seemed like it was being forced. She had read snatchers were in favor of the highest bidder. They didn't always work under the Dark Lord. She groaned and put her head on her knees. What was happening to her?

* * *

"Don't you turn your back on me, Worthless!" Bellatrix shrieked from somewhere behind the Snatcher. She brought her wand up, and a jet of red light exploded from the tip.

Scabior turned just in time, and knowing full well what the spell was, dove to the side to avoid it. The jet of light hit the water, dispersing it. He let out an enraged growl and brought his own wand up. "Sectumsempra!" He launched his own spell at her.

She deflected it, and it hit one of his men. Scabior blocked out the man's pained screams as he watched Bellatrix advance on him. He brought his wand up again for another attack, but a second later, she had disapparated. He didn't buy the act. He froze and listened, waiting for any sign of the witch to return. He expected an attack from right in front of him or the sides, but just as he turned to check behind him, Bellatrix reappeared and backhanded him, sending him to the ground. She fired another curse- another Crucio, and Scabior let out a pained scream of his own upon feeling like he was getting ripped apart from the inside. His screams stopped with a harsh cough when she brought her heel down, digging into his neck.

"You're lucky that's all your getting for now, you filth!" She hissed, kneeling down and kicking his wand away. She bent down more and removed her boot, only to replace it with her hand. Her nails dug into his neck. "You and your useless mongrels have a week to find Harry Potter and his friends… or I won't be so kind... And won't let you play with Potter's little bitch…"

Scabior managed to make an unsure scowl.

"Oh yes, I saw the way you came in. Couldn't take your eyes off 'er… I can remedy that… if you're a good boy after this… misunderstanding."

Scabior let out another growl and tried to launch himself at her, but the effects of the crucio made that hard, and she disapparated in the next moment, anyway. He glared up as her form disappeared, then let the last effects of the torturing curse fade out. When his second in command hurried to help him up, the lead snatcher slapped his hand away and slowly got to his feet, stumbling as he did so. He straightened himself out, rubbing his neck where she had stepped and touched, then spit out the blood that had gathered in his mouth. "Thinks she can pull that over on me, does she?"

Greyback advanced on him. "Don't you do doing something stupid. That's the least we need or want. We need to find the boy."

Scabior glared at the werewolf. "It may be the least you need." He replied. "But no one makes a fool out of me and gets away with it. We find the boy and his friends, and then she's done."

Greyback bared his fangs. "I wouldn't talk like that to me if I were you."

Scabior smirked. "Right. Then there's that."

"There's what?" Greyback demanded.

Scabior's smirk grew, even if it seemed impossible, then motioned at himself, then Greyback. "Sure, we wouldn't want to make the senile lady back there mad again, so that contract stays, but…" He motioned between himself and the werewolf. "_Our contract.. us taking orders from you…"_

_Greyback scowled again, but said nothing. _

"_Consider it terminated, mate." He winked, then disapparated just as Greyback lunged for him. Once he found ground again at the place he knew Greyback could not follow- the field behind his old home after leaving Hogwarts. Suddenly, his stomach lurched and he hunched over in order to vomit. No matter how confident you were, disapparating after being tortured was never a good idea. He knew that now. Once he was done, he noticed his men had followed. Loyal 'til the end. He smirked once again, then paused. Bellatrix had said that the three prisoners escaped. He remembered the girl's screaming, and he absentmindedly started to toy with her scarf. There was no doubt she had suffered the same spell at Bellatrix's hand than he just had. He fisted the scarf hard when he thought of his latest catch- that pretty face, screwed up in pain, and sickness, if they had escaped by apparating. Oh yes, Bellatrix would pay. He'd be sure of that. No harm would come to him or his latest possession-to-be. He'd be sure of that. _


	3. Cut to the Bone

**A/N: Sorry for the huge wait. College work piled up like crazy, and I also left my copy of Deathly Hallows home so I couldn't read up like I said I would. That being said, I could be wrong with some facts here, so I apologize for that, too. I won't keep you longer. Enjoy.**

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To Scabior's disappointment, the snatcher didn't get to toy with his prettiest catch for some time after they had made their escape. Several days dissolved into a month, and then two months. He had seen her on the run across meadows-turned-battlefields, and that was it. Half the time he tried to get to her, he had been intercepted by Greyback. Not that he blamed the werewolf, but the larger… creature was Hell bent on causing him damage after he crossed him. By the end of each battle he had seen Hermione in, Scabior was in a tree, behind a boulder, or lying flat on the ground to avoid the werewolf. The first time Greyback had found him after their fight, Scabior had narrowly escaped him, getting four long, deep scratches across his chest since Greyback was mid-transformation. Bellatrix was just as unwelcoming. During one battle, Scabior had to avoid at least seven jets of green light that the psychotic witch had aimed his way. Sure, each battle that the snatcher and his men went through might as well have been a dance with Death, but they were all going hungry. They needed their catch- Potter, the Pretty Thing, and the Whelp. The trio was the key to getting paid, and that was all that mattered. He just wanted his second prize- the others could do what they wished with the boys.

Now, a couple of hours after the latest battle found Scabior and his men tending to wounds they had sustained from both sides. His second in command was preforming the incantation to repair his broken arm, the others were mending scrapes, cuts and gashes, and Scabior himself was closing the cuts on one arm and trying to close up the gash on one arm the old fashioned way. No magic was allowed as far as he was concerned. Scars were just stories in the making. He hissed when the makeshift needle- cut and sharpened wood, and went further into his arm than he would've liked. As much as he appreciated the stories behind wounds, it didn't mean he enjoyed the pain that went with it. He finished up stitching the worst wound of the bunch then used the knife he had tucked in his boot to cut the thread. He tossed the needle further into the woods and looked at his second in command. "We should move on."

The redhead gawked. "But Boss, the Death Eaters- they're gonna be there- they nearly killed us all the last time."

Scabior scoffed. "What? Afraid of what a dirty whore and a few pathetic men?"

The other snatcher frowned and looked down.

Scabior growled, then lashed out, clipping the man's jaw with the side of his fist. He watched the man fall to the ground and then look up at him with wide eyes. "You ungrateful little bastard." He looked at his other men. "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Have I never stuck my neck out for all of you? Have I never put you in enough danger where you die? Are all of you here that were here when we first took this job?" He barked. "Yes, injured, but you are all still very much alive!" He pointed to the ground. "And I'm honestly starting to regret that, so don't you dare test me. Not now. I give you an order, you are to follow it, or there will be consequences. Am I understood?"

There were hesitant murmurs of agreement.

Scabior looked around at the crowd. "… We leave in five minutes. Get ready." He adjusted his jacket, grabbed hold of his pack, and started to circle the camp and give it a once over, making sure there wouldn't be any trace that they had been there. Once he saw that the others had obeyed his order, he headed off in the direction they had overheard the Death Eaters were going in. He was Hell-bent on seeing his girl again. Where the Death Eaters were, he was sure she'd be. He wanted to keep the chase going no matter what. If he needed to kill Greyback and Bellatrix in the process, that was all the better.

* * *

Scabior turned out being right. The trio was at the next battlefield, as were the Death Eaters. The lead snatcher took it upon himself to take after the trio. He had to admit, they had gotten faster since the last time they were running from him. He was still faster, though. He managed to get the three of them to separate just in front of a large boulder jutting out of the ground. The Boy Who Lived and his useless sidekick went one direction, and his pretty thing went the other. He was honestly torn for a few seconds, then something compelled him to go after the main payload first. He tore after the boys. He cut them off at a pass by a few feet, so he launched himself up into a nearby tree and waited for the opportune moment. The boys grew closer.

"Think we lost him, Harry."

"No, Ron. He has to be around here somewhere."

"He's not anywhere, mate. Probably went after Lupin or McGon-"

"Lupin just transformed, Ron! You saw him back there!"

"...Oh, right, yeah."

Scabior held in his snort, then got ready to pounce when Scarred walked right under the tree. He grabbed his wand and soundlessly lunged off of the tree.

"HARRY!"

Scabior felt the urge to laugh when the redhead's warning came a moment too late. He had a good grip on the boy and was about to apparate away when something hit the snatcher full force. He lost his grip and hit the ground hard a few feet from the boys.

"What was that-"

"It's Lupin! He's protecting us!"

"That's not Lupin, Ron!"

"… Then it's Greyback, RUN!"

Scabior barely registered the boys running the opposite direction. He was too distracted trying to get away from the snapping jaws of the werewolf above him. He had heard who the boys assumed the werewolf was, and that just encouraged him to keep fighting. He managed to get out from under him for a moment and dove for his fallen wand a couple of feet away. He managed to get it and turned over to blast a repelling spell. That too came late, because he felt the werewolf reopen the last scratches on the snatcher's chest he had caused. Scabior let out a yell of pain before saying the intended spell.

The werewolf was blasted back, hitting one of the thick trees with a yelp of pain.

Scabior waited to make sure the werewolf wasn't getting back up before he stumbled back into the main action. His return only earned him a blast of a moments worth of a paralyzing curse, because for a second, he felt nothing, then the next, just enough to fall to his knees and feel like his chest was on fire. His vision blurred slightly, and he was just barely aware of a figure come over and stand in front of him before the stranger murmured something. Scabior noticed his vision was going from blurry to flat out black and tried to fight off the hand that was now on his shoulder that was descending to his arm. He growled, then grunted when the stranger twisted his arm, then grabbed the other. His vision and awareness got worse by the second now. He felt his wrists being bound together by something, and then his entire world went back as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Scabior came back to Earth hours later, but he wasn't aware of time. Everything was still fuzzy for him. Voices blended together, and he could've sworn he heard someone refer to him as a 'brute.' Moments later, he was out again.

He came back again another few minutes later. The voices were more clear now. "I still say we kill him" one voice insisted. He made a mental note to listen for that voice when he got free and torture- or preferably kill that man. More muttering- some people agreed, some didn't. Then one voice stood out above them all- her voice. The Pretty voice. "No! We are not going to kill him!" If he had the energy, he would've laughed. She was defending his life after he tried to kill them. Heart of gold- who would've thought after everything that had happened these last few months. To his amusement, she continued. "He is a human being! Haven't enough people died tonight?" The last syllable came out as a high shriek, but the surrounding people still got eerily quiet. He waited for a response, but none came. There were footsteps that sounded quite muddy seconds later, then nothing. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He recognized the tent- it was from the opposing side's collection. He could've figured that out without the tent, but it still just made the situation worse.

He was a prisoner, and it sounded like they were all set to gamble with his life. He was as good as dead if this went the way it was bound to.


	4. Tendency of Getting Very Physical

Splash.

It was wet, running, and bloody Hell, it was cold. Scabior jolted awake when whatever it was that had just gotten thrown at him came in contact with his face. He tried to scramble upright, but the beam his arms were bound around made that impossible. The fact that he had been out cold seconds before didn't help, either. His muscles screamed in protest and he let his knees buckle to relieve the pain. He looked down at himself, noticing that he had just been drenched with water, then looked in the direction it had come from. There were two men- one with three scars across his face that he recognized as Greyback's secondary target in the battlefield, but he couldn't say he knew the other, who was holding the bucket.

"You, Snatcher, what's your name?"

Scabior stared, then scoffed. "What's it matter, Stranger? Answering will just get me one less bit of water to the face, won't it?" He merely flinched when the man tossed more water on him. "Precisely. Thanks, mate. Haven't had a proper wash in a while." He was pelted with water again, and he just waited for the drops coming off his bangs to slow down. "You want a hint, then? A couple of years back, I could've been considered royalty in this world. My family had so much power. I was never one for the high life, as you can see, but even if I did, my brother went and screwed that up."

The unscarred man went to throw more water, but the scarred one- Lucian, was it? No, that wasn't it. The scarred one stopped him all the same. "He's just toying with us, Carter, don't bother."

Scabior would've pointed at the scarred man if his hands were free. "At least one of you have common sense."

Carter growled, put the bucket down and approached the Snatcher. Scabior arched a challenging eyebrow at him, and in turn earned himself a punch to the stomach. He clenched his jaw and tried to will the pain away. Once it was a dull throb, he offered a sarcastic smile at Carter. Carter stormed off, and Scabior looked at the scarred one. "You want to have a go, now? I'm starting to get feeling back in my stomach."

The scarred one looked down and offered a small sarcastic smile of his own before bending down. "Consider yourself lucky that I'm not a physical man… at the moment. You know, not answering will only end in a world of pain for you."

Scabior shrugged. "Thanks, mate, but I'll take my chances." He replied. "Say, where's Potter's little girlfriend? I'd like to thank her, being that she saved my life an' all."

The man shook his head. "No. You will not be seeing her again, that I assure you."

A grin grew on Scabior's face when he saw anger flash in the man's eyes. It seemed like a foreign look for him. "Why? She yours, Scratchy?"

The man flat out snarled and grabbed Scabior roughly by his leather jacket lapel. "She and the other two might as well be my children. If you harm them- any of them, I will not hesitate to end your pathetic life."

Scabior arched an eyebrow. That was quite a change from what the man had said seconds ago. Then it hit him. The abrupt change, the eyes. "…You're the werewolf- the one Greyback turned."

The man stared, then retreated from the tent, leaving Scabior alone.

The snatcher made sure that no one else was going to come in and throw a more solid object than water at him before he tugged at his bonds. They were rope, but some spell must've done some bang-up job on reinforcing them. He tugged a few more times and thought of all the countercurses he knew that could get rid of bindings like this. He muttered a handful of them to no avail. He let out a grunt of defeat- temporary defeat, anyway, and let his head fall back against the beam. Now what?

* * *

"Why'd you do it, 'Mione?"

Hermione turned around, hearing Ron's question, but more importantly, his tone. "Pardon?"

"You let the bastard who turned us in to Voldemort live when everyone had a perfect chance to kill him!"

Hermione scoffed. "I am sick of seeing people die- some right in front of us, if they're on our side or not! How do you feel, Ronald, seeing people we care about just drop dead in front of us nonstop? Hm? How do you feel when you see the life leave a person's eyes? We're teenagers, Ron! We shouldn't see this many deaths in our lives!" Hermione finished, shoving him for good measure. "I don't care if he tried to turn us in! We're here, we're alive, and I'm just sick of people dying!" Without another word, she stormed off, nearly plowing over Remus and Carter as she did so.

Carter paid no mind, just focusing on the werewolf beside him. "And what does he mean, 'powerful'? That's rubbish, that is. No one with any power runs with his sort or looks like that."

Ron looked up. "Who's royalty?"

Carter waved his hand. "None of your concern, Weasley."

"Carter, easy." Remus warned him. "The snatcher we captures is just egging us on, saying he had quite a bit of power years back."

Hermione frowned. "What do you think that's supposed to mean?"

Remus shrugged. "Don't know, don't much care to, either. The faster we can get information out of him then cast him back or worse, the better."

The trio turned to stare at their former teacher. They had never heard him sound so… dark- so eager for someone to hurt. They figured that's what war did to the best of them.

As if Remus had heard their thoughts, or was thinking along the same lines as they were about himself, the werewolf sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been a long night… for all of us, of course. I'm going to retire before I say or do anything else foolish. Good night, Harry, Ron, Hermione."

"Night, Remus." The three of them chorused.

With one final nod, Remus headed off in the direction of the tent he shared with Arthur, Molly and Carter.

The trio looked back at the tent Scabior was in, and at the two wizards they had never seen who guarding it. Carter had doubled back to snap orders at them before disappearing into the prisoner's tent again. "S' how long do you think it'll take 'em to break that guy? He seemed like a right foul git when we ran into him last." Ron replied. "Didn't seem like the guy who would give anything up quick."

Hermione sighed. "Looks like only time will tell."

* * *

It was mere minutes that Scabior had been awake since finding himself bound to the post in the tent, but he was starting to become exactly what the situation had called for. Hell, he had been called an animal before. It was hard not to be even slightly feral when your job required you to live in the wild. But now, add a cage, and he was a caged animal- a soaking wet caged animal. He was still trying to undo his bindings, and he was growling as each effort was thwarted. However, it must've at least looked like he was getting somewhere, because he barely registered that the first man from before, Carter, had come back in, before Carter's fist had connected with his jaw. As per usual, he managed to shrug it off, merely closing his eyes and grunting dismissively. He looked back at Carter and arched an eyebrow. "Back to see your human punching bag again? I'm impressed. A real man would've at least waited a few hours." Carter punched Scabior's opposite jaw, and Scabior repeated the process of just brushing it off, adding an eyeroll to the mix this time. "Really, mate? That's just horrible. My little brother could've hit harder than that- did hit harder than that. Hell, that _Penelope_, whatever her name is out there could probably hit harder."

Getting kicked in the face was a Hell of a lot worse than taking a couple of punches. Scabior let out a moan of pain, hating that he gave this new bloke the satisfaction. "By all means, continue. I think that jus' cleared up my sinuses." He exhaled out of his nose sharply to rid the excess blood gathering there. He gritted his teeth when Carter yanked his head up by the hair.

"We've just been over this. I'd watch your tone and your subject matter, snatcher. Everyone's ready to harm whoever messes with any of the younger bunch. You'll be the first to go if you keep it up unless you tell us what we want to know."

"Well, that's a bit obvious, in'it? I am your only prisoner. Not to mention 'what you want to know'… what would that be? Where the Death Eaters are hiding? They're in the wind as much as you pathetic lot are. The bitch tossed us out after our last meeting months back. We have no idea. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. Then again, you know that, don't you? You're a dirty man, do your own dirty work." He flinched when Carter grabbed his jaw and slammed his head back against the beam.

"I'm going to enjoy ending you when the time comes, Snatcher."

"I'd like to see you try." Scabior countered.

Carter left again in a huff, managing to tune out the snatcher's broken chuckle as he did so.

* * *

Harry watched Carter leave again. "What do you think Carter thinks that snatcher knows?"

Ron shrugged. "Could be anything. Names, places, you name it."

Hermione nodded in agreement, then looked at Harry, recognizing the look in his eyes as the Boy Who Lived looked at Scabior's tent. "Harry, you talking to him isn't going to help anything either. It may make things worse."

Harry turned to her, and his hardened look faded. "…You're right."

"Just give it time. He'll talk." Hermione added.

Ron snorted. "And how do you suppose that? He's one of them, isn't he?"

"Snatchers are hired, Ronald. They don't have an official side. Anyway, he's human, isn't he? Anyone would break under these conditions." She put her hands in her sweatshirt pockets and leaned forward to try and warm them up.

Ron shook his head and looked ahead before getting up. "Lupin had the right idea. I'm going to bed."

"Me too." Harry nodded, getting up. "You coming, 'Mione?"

"I'll be in shortly. I'm going to stay for a while." She replied.

The boys nodded again before heading in the direction of their tent.

Hermione turned back to their view ahead. A large meadow was below the cliff they were on, and you could see for miles. It would've been quite breathtaking had fires reminding them of dark times not been visible rising in the distance. She sighed and nuzzled further into her sweatshirt. She stayed put for a few minutes and started to feel her eyelids getting heavy. That all changed when a hand clamped over her mouth abruptly and then pulled her to her feet. She attempted to scream, but the hand muffled the first half, and the last half was drowned out when she heard the person who had her mutter a silencing spell. She thrashed, but whoever had her proved to be strong. She had no other choice but to let herself get dragged towards the largest grouping of tents.


	5. I Move, Confused

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. Thanks for that anon on Tumblr who told me to get on this, haha. Anyways, I know things have been slow in the fic so far. I plan to update next sometime after the movie comes out, so it'll be a short wait and I'll have more to work with. It'll pick up in the next couple of chapters because Scabior and Hermione will finally get alone time. Once again, the chapter's short. The next couple will hopefully make up for that.**

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Hermione continued to fight, kicking and tossing herself back and forth to try and get away from her captor. The captor shook her and she fell silent, trying to look behind her to catch a glimpse of whoever it was. Her captor moved just the right way and she missed seeing him, but caught something else familiar in the distance. "REMUS!" A hand was clasped over her mouth, and the next thing she knew, she was tossed into one of the tents. She barely comprehended she was free until she realized she was on her hands and knees in mud. She scrambled upright, then saw Scabior, still bound to the beam, looking up at her, confusion written plainly on his face. At least that ruled him out. She turned back around sharply, nearly getting poked in the eye with a wand. She looked beyond it, seeing Carter pointing it at her. "Carter, what's…?"

"Getting information out of him, my dear." He yanked her sideways so the tip of his wand was against the side of her head. "Alright, Snatcher. You've taken a shine to this one. What'll happen if you see her die?"

"WHAT?" Hermione fought again.

"It won't get far, I'll tell you that." Scabior replied, looking from the man to the terrified girl.

Carter growled and was about to make his next move when two people burst into the tent. Carter was tackled to the floor. Hermione let out another yell of protest when someone tossed their arm around her and yanked her back, until she recognized the sleeve of the jacket- Remus'. She was safe now. She let him pull her out.

"Hermione, find Harry and Ron and stay put." Remus ordered before ducking back inside the tent, failing to see Scabior manage to grab one of the wands that had fallen in the scuffle when it landed right beside his hands. The werewolf pulled Carter out of the tent, screaming at him about putting one of their own in danger to get information.

Scabior got a better hold of the wand and muttered a duplicating charm, making a copy of the wand appear a few feet away.

Remus came back and set him with a glare. He retrieved the wand copy, and looked at Scabior. "Next time you won't be so lucky. If you don't start giving us information, you will die."

"That threat's never scared me before, Werewolf. So tell me, when did Greyback manage to get the upper hand on you, hm? Was it even 'im? It's always him."

Remus shook his head and smiled. "We've been over this. You're lucky I'm a peaceful man."

"Be an honor to see you at your less-than-peaceful, then." Scabior shrugged.

"You won't be saying that when it happens." Remus replied before leaving once more.

Scabior counted until a minute passed, and when no one came back in, he maneuvered the wand to face his bonds. He muttered a cutting spell, and the ropes drooped down. Scabior put his hands in front of him, ignoring the bloody scrapes, just happy to be able to see them again. His relief was short lived, however, because a moment later, he heard what sounded like fireworks, then the side of the tent suddenly tore and smoke poured in. He coughed and pulled back, only to see Bellatrix materialize from part of it.

"YOU!" She shrieked after a moment, raising her want.

Scabior didn't waste time. He tossed Remus' wand up a few inches and turned on his heel to adjust his direction of escape. He grabbed the wand again and tore out of the ruined tent, missing her curse by feet. He skidded to a halt to see Death Eaters, Harry's friends, and random others running around in various directions. He caught sight of one of the men running in his direction- more importantly- the man had his wand strapped to his hip. The man didn't seem to notice him, so Scabior tossed his arm out, just in time to clothesline the man. When the man hit the ground, Scabior swooped down and retrieved his wand. "I'll take that, mate." He shoved it back into its holster at his thigh, then picked a direction and ran. No sense in getting caught by anyone on either side at this rate. He darted around one of the tents, seeing Remus fighting some unknown Death Eater a few feet away. It wasn't going well, because Remus was taking cover behind fallen debris and glaring at the copy of his wand as the Death Eater shot various curses his way.

Scabior didn't know why he whistled to get the werewolf's attention. Maybe it was because part of him liked Remus- respected him, somehow, some way.

Remus looked over at him, and Scabior just watched the man's heart sink in his eyes. That was, until Scabior raised the werewolf's real wand at chest level, pointed up.

Remus narrowed his eyes and frowned at him.

Scabior waited for the Death Eater to be distracted with another enemy before he threw the wand at Remus, and it landed inches away from the man.

Remus looked from the wand, then back at the man, his confused look doubling in intensity.

Scabior touched his pointer finger and middle finger to his forehead, and swiped them away in a mock salute before running off in the opposite direction. Apparating would probably draw too much attention. He managed to avoid a stray sectumsempra, and his contortions that he used to avoid it made him notice another fight going on. Greyback was on the field a few feet away, advancing on Penelope, or Hermione, or whatever _her_ name was. He growled. He wasn't going to let that go down at all. He weaved his way towards their fight, trying to get as close as possible without being discovered. He underestimated Greyback's sense of smell, however, because when he was a few feet from them, Greyback turned to him.

"Back to let the bosses have another match, eh?" Greyback asked.

Hermione whimpered and looked between them.

Scabior shrugged, tossing his hands out briefly. "Couldn't resist."

Greyback switched his wand to his other hand. "I suppose that the morsel can wait, then."

Scabior made another dismissive face, then drew his own wand, pointing it at the werewolf. He let his eyes stray to Hermione for a moment. "I suggest you run, Luv."

Hermione didn't move, both for fear, and curiosity as to why he was suddenly protecting her and not stalking her, for lack of a better term.

"NOW!" Scabior barked before blasting a curse in Greyback's direction.

Hermione's mind finally caught up with her body when Greyback shot back a curse of his own. She turned hard on her heel and bolted into the forest.

Scabior made a quick strategy and managed to get Greyback away from the clearing. They ended up back where the main action was. He dodged back and forth as he always had. When he thought he had lost the werewolf, he jumped up onto a piece of wreckage with catlike skill and turned. Greyback was still just about on top of him. He readied himself to send another curse the werewolf's way when someone did it for him. A jet of blue light sent Greyback flying back a few yards. Scabior got off the wreckage and headed back towards the clearing, not bothering to see who his willing, or unwilling assistant had been. He made it, and continued running through the forest. He wanted to get away from the fight, he wanted to survive, and sure, he wanted to see if his first act of kindness- no, perhaps just protection, was a waste, or a success. He ran until his lungs burned. He sat himself on a tree trunk that had been split, perhaps from lightning in a storm. It couldn't have been hit by a stray spell that far in, he assumed. He got comfortable, and then sat still in that position, waiting for any sound to indicate he wasn't alone anymore. After a while, he heard leaves crunching repeatedly that suddenly died out, then got quieter and further apart. He closed his eyes and focused. There was that smell again- that smell that had been gone from his latest scrap of clothing for some time now. He sighed and slapped his hands to his knees. "You shouldn't be out this far, Pet. At least, not until you learn to be a little more quiet when you're trying to stay hidden." He turned in the direction of Hermione's footsteps, finding a tree that seemed just wide enough to hide her. "Come out. No sense in tryin' to kill you out here. Where's the fun? Too easy, if you ask me."

After a few more seconds, Hermione peeked around the side of the tree.

Scabior smirked. "There we are."

Hermione ducked back behind the tree. "Why did you help me? Why did you help me get away from him?"

Scabior shrugged. "Like I said, no fun. The hunt's more fun when I'm the one doin' the huntin.' Scraggly don't deserve it, 'specially after what he did to me the last couple o' times we've been together."

Hermione contemplated looking at him again, then let out a shriek when the tree next to her exploded when an invisible force hit it. Scabior's head shot in the direction the attack came from, then ducked as his own cover exploded, sending woodchips flying everywhere. So the battle was moving again. Fantastic. "See you around, My Lovely!" He called before tearing off in the other direction once again.

Hermione panicked as another spell came her way. It hit her slowly- the only way out was the way he had run- she had to follow him to get away. That meant certain death, she just knew it. She dodged what she was convinced was the Killing Curse, and that made up her mind. She had put her life on the line before- what was one more time, in the end? She bolted after him, praying that the ones who had tried to attack them gave up looking for them quickly.


	6. I Want You Gone

**A/N: Okay, so I lied. Another quick update, most of it is just filler, I'm not gonna lie. (shifty eyes) Scabior also kinda sorta turns into Jack Sparrow… (cough). And I am aiming for a mary-sue-ish vibe with the OFC I have in here, so…. I don't wanna hear about that. Moving on, enjoy. I may also have a continuity error in this chap, but I could be wrong there. Too busy at the moment to check.**

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To the pair's chagrin, running from one battle landed them in the middle of a smaller one. It wasn't Harry's allies versus Death Eaters- it was smaller- perhaps people who supported Voldemort's cause, and those against it. Hermione hated herself for it, but she found herself running after Scabior. She didn't trust him, but she recalled him being what could easily be considered protective, even if it was meant to be possessive, of her at the Malfoy Manor earlier. Even on opposite sides, she would take an enemy who protected what he assumed was his over strangers who didn't know what side she was on. At one point, she was just about at Scabior's heels when he stopped short to avoid a jet of orange light. She ran right into him, latching onto his arms to keep the both of them steady.

Scabior waited for the impending danger in their area to stop before glancing back at her and smirking. "Do try to keep up, Love." He reached back and took hold of her arm.

Hermione pulled a face, wondering what he was getting at, when the answer cane- quite fast at that. She barely had time to register that he had started running before her arms gave protest that the rest of her body wasn't going as fast as what was attached to him was. She let out a shriek and attempted to do just as he asked. It proved just as difficult as he had made it sound. Everything exploding around them didn't help the situation. One explosion got too close to them and sent them sprawling into the side of one of the tents that were set up.

Scabior was the first to recover, rolling away from the cloth and sitting up. He frowned when he felt something digging into his back. He rolled over again and retrieved the offending object- someone had dropped their wand in the scuffle. He looked it up and down. The color, the contours, it was familiair. "… I know you…" He continued to stare, then it hit him. "Oh, no…" He looked at Hermione. "… You know, I'd say it's better if we risk our asses back there and not here."

"And why's that?" Hermione demanded, moving her fingers from her forehead to straight out in front of her to see if she was bleeding. No such luck. At least that was reasonable.

"None of your damn business," Scabior got to his feet. "Let's move." The order had barely left his mouth before a thin jet of light hit his chest.

Hermione let out a shriek when he fell to the ground in a heap. She stayed perfectly still, but that didn't stop someone from grabbing her again. She knew Remus wasn't going to be around to save her this time, so she didn't fight. She had no clue what to expect now. She took in the hooded figures that came over. Two of them took hold of Scabior under his arms and yanked him upright. They started to drag him off, letting his feet drag along the ground as they did so.

* * *

Scabior came back to consciousness within the hour. He opened his eyes and turned to see Hermione glaring daggers at him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back. "Tell me we're not in a cell that seems too lit for it's own good"

"I would if that were the case." Hermione shot back. "They say they know you. We ran into the middle of a gypsy camp. It wasn't… You Know Who's men versus… the people on my side… one big argument flew out of proportion…"

Scabior sighed. "Wouldn't surprise me, with them."

"You know these people?" Hermione asked.

"'Course I do. I used to be one of them." Scabior replied, looking around. Sure enough, they were in what looked like a prison cell that could've passed as one from the seventeen hundreds. He saw a portly man with greying dirty blonde hair sitting in the corner a few feet away. " For example… Smitty? Smitty, is that you?"

The man, Smitt, known to the Snatcher and a handful of others as Smitty, looked up. "Ah, Scabe. You're awake. I was wondering if her spell had finally done you in." The man replied, walking towards them.

Scabior smirked. "Wouldn't be the first time you thought wrong, mate." Scabior replied.

Smitt shrugged, then laughed, reaching over and clapping Scabior on the shoulder. "I've missed you, boy."

Scabior smiled. "Back at ya,"

Smitt returned the smile, but it faded fast. He dropped his hand, only to curl it into a fist. He punched Scabior in the solar plexus, and the Snatcher went down in half the time it took for him to go down from the spell.

Hermione gasped. So much for following him to have protection. Worst. Mistake. Ever. It wasn't turning out that way at all. Scabior had seemed like he was a decent amount of muscle- Hermione was realizing that it was Greyback that was the main muscle. Scabior just seemed to be the mouth of the group. Great. She was doomed.

Smitt turned his attention to her. "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

Scabior let out a sound that was a half growl, half moan of pain. "Leave her be, Smitty."

The witch gathered her courage and squared her shoulders. "Penelope Clearwater."

Smitt looked at Scabior. "Adele won't like this- you running around with a girl barely out of her teens."

Scabior grunted, trying to get back to his feet, failing miserably. "You know, Smitty. You… ugn… owe me. She doesn't need to know." The snatcher crawled over to the wall of the cell and started to haul himself to his feet.

Out of habit, Hermione went over and helped him the last couple of inches. When she remembered just who she had helped, she started to relinquish her hold on him. She barely had time to do it, being that he yanked his arm free of hers. The man leaned forward, holding two of the bars and pressing his forehead between them. "Come on, Smitty. Just this once?"

"Too late. She already knows."

Hermione watched as Scabior visibly tensed and Smitt grinned.

A tall blonde woman came around the corner. She walked with a confidence that Hermione hated right off the bat. The woman reminded the young witch of a perfect mix between Bellatrix and Lavender Brown. She shrunk back out of instinct.

The woman walked over to Scabior. "Well well, look who it is."

Scabior looked her up and down. "Adele." He greeted.

The woman, Adele, grinned, baring white, perfectly aligned teeth. "What? No 'Addie? No 'Adelily?"

Hermione would've scoffed if she wasn't as confused about the situation as she was. The teeth added a Fleur element to the mix. All the women Hermione hated were wrapped into the one in front of the snatcher. How do they know one another? She wondered. They look like they're from opposite worlds- well, he did say he used to be one of these people, but… hm. She watched the two stare each other down.

Scabior shrugged. "Figured you wouldn't be thrilled to see me…. I mean, this, I expected, but… I expected a bit more pain."

Hermione started panicking on the inside. Was he encouraging her to hurt them, now? He looked like he enjoyed causing pain, not being on the receiving end of it.

"Why would I do that?" Adele cooed.

"I know you, you would." Scabior replied. He reached for the woman, but she stepped back. " I missed you. You look good."

Once again, Hermione hid her confusion. There was that mocking tone of his hidden in his comments- it was a tad disturbing she knew that, but the point was, she had heard it before. Just what was he trying to do?

When Adele reached out and grabbed Scabior by one of his articles of clothing, Hermione could only stare at what she had gotten hold of. She hadn't picked up on it before, but that was her scarf Adele was holding- her scarf on his neck. Just what was that about? She tried not to squawk when in the next moment, Adele had given her scarf a good tug to get Scabior even closer, and yanked him into a kiss. Hermione managed to see that it was more of a biting match than a kiss, but both parties seemed… interested. The witch looked over at Smitt, and found he wasn't far behind in his reaction to the... reunion. He was looking at his hands, pretending to be interested in something on them. Every couple of seconds he looked up at the sight to behold, scrunched up his nose and looked back down.

It finally ended, and the pair separated. Adele smiled. "Where have you been all this time, Love?"

"Doing business," Scabior replied.

"And you didn't even write? Send some message in any way?"

Scabior smirked. "I've told you. It's dangerous out there for any contact."

"I thought you said you wouldn't mind my company…"

"I wouldn't mind, but it would have probably ended in your death. Is that better?"

Adele frowned, then slapped him, and the slap turned into a scratch within a moment.

Scabior hissed, then let out a muffled yelp when she got a hold of him below the belt and squeezed.

Hermione couldn't hold back her own yelp. Well, their sanities were certainly perfectly matched. She covered her mouth, and that motion seemed to be Adele's indication that she was even there, judging by the slow roll of the woman's head in the girl's direction.

"My my, Scabior. Is this why you haven't written? Another girl? She's quite young. Good for you."

Scabior grumbled again, still squirming to get out of her current grip.

Adele let him go and strolled over a couple of feet to face Hermione. "Hello, Pet. Let me warn you about our mutual friend." She reached for the girl, and Hermione scrambled back. Adele pursed her lips and drew back. "Scabior, you always did know how to choose them."

"Oh, shut up, Woman." Scabior snapped.

Adele whirled around and glared at him. She went to open the cell door, but that all stopped when there was a whooshing sound and the wall of the cell exploded. No one noticed that Smitt seemed to duck just moments before the explosion, as if he saw it coming. More booms followed within seconds, and there were a few clouds of white and dark grey smoke circling in the sky.

Adele turned to Scabior. "You've brought them here!" She shrieked over the commotion.

Scabior just smirked, moved his hand in a vertical circle and bowed before he reached for Hermione and all but tossed her through their latest escape route. "GO!" He barked, noticing that a couple of the wizards who had been around the area found a place to land in the prison, and a fight broke out. He continued to shove Hermione away until they found a spot that seemed away from the action.

Afer he shoved her into the furthest corner, Hermione turned to him. "WHY? Why are you helping me? I'm sick and tired of all these tricks!"

"Oh hush. I'm not doing this for you." Scabior snapped, looking around the corner, then turning back and pressing against the wall every so often.

"Then who are you… Ugh. Who was that lovely woman?"

Scabior's mouth twitched for a moment. "My wife…"

"WIFE?"

"Ex wife, really. Can the questions stop, now, My Lovely?"

"I am not your Lovely, and no, they can not! I want answers no-AH!" Hermione tossed her arms over her head and dropped to her knees when the corner of the roof above her disintegrated, and the cloud of smoke indicating someone apparating showed up. Hermione panicked again. She didn't even have her wand for defense against anyone- Scabior or otherwise.

The smoke suddenly stopped, and Smitt took its place.

Scabior nodded a greeting at the man, then pulled two things out of his jacket. Two wands- one being hers, , Hermione realized. The other one must've been Scabior's or Adele's, judging by all the manhandling going on before.

"You may want to get back to the last place you were. It may be safer." Smitt instructed.

"Really?" Scabior demanded sarcastically. "Honestly, Smitty. Do you ever-"

"Shut. Up. Scabior. I'm doing this because I'm your friend… " He looked at Hermione. "… And she looks far too innocent to get involved in any of this." He added, then a ghost of a smile graced his lips. "… I didn't punch you too hard, did I?"

Scabior smirked. "Nope. Thanks for these back, by the way." He motioned at the wands, then turned to Hermione. "Now, if I say so myself, you're better off with me, and I like you being with me. No funny business, and you get the wand. Understood?"

Hermione hesitated. What other choice did she have? He was armed now, she wasn't. She was alive after a lot with him. She licked her lips and nodded.

Scabior tossed her her wand, then turned to Smitt. "… You know I'm not good at thank yous, mate…"

Smitt nodded. "Mm hm. Just… just promise me one thing…."

Scabior arched an eyebrow. "We won't be even again, then…"

"It's worth it." Smitt replied.

Scabior squared his shoulders. "Go on…"

"Kill Greyback and Formes for me." Smitt replied.

Scabior frowned. "The Mighty Marcus Smitt, Man of Peace, asking for me to kill someone? That doesn't add up. You're always the neutral party, now you want me to side with…" He motioned at Hermione. "Them?"

Smitt looked down. "Still neutral. I just want them dead… murdered in cold blood."

Scabior's frowned deepened. For the first time, Hermione saw honest concern in Scabior's eyes. "...Mate? What happened? Why do you want me to-"

"Because they murdered Corinne, Scabe. They knew I was connected to you, they needed information, I didn't give it, and they killed her... killed my wife. I was here, she was in London…"

Hermione inhaled sharply. She had sensed that there was little darkness in the man who looked like he was fighting back tears now, so her heart broke for him then and there. She looked at Scabior and saw the concern and shock on his face again. It was new, but comforting in an odd way.

Scabior shook his head. "Not Corri…"

Smitt nodded.

Scabior hesitated, then grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "… You have my word, Smitty…. Marcus. It just so happens I want to kill the bastards in general."

Smitt looked at him and nodded. "Give him Hell, then… and be careful." He looked at Hermione. "That goes double for you, Miss. Clearwater."

Hermione nodded.

Smitt looked around. "Now go, before someone recognizes you. Adele may have been right."

Scabior turned to Hermione and shoved her in the opposite direction- a wooded area, and hoped that it was the same forest from before. Time to check out how the werewolf and his friends were.

* * *

Minutes later, Hermione was just short of being completely numb. They had been right, and had returned to Harry, Ron and the other's camp. It was completely destroyed. Tents were torn, there were small fires, and dead bodies were everywhere. Hermione took in all the damage. Scabior had wandered off a couple of minutes earlier. She wondered how he could even move, seeing all the destruction. When she finaly got some sense back, she saw Scabior a few feet away, rooting around in one of the dead bodies' jacket pockets. Her heart just about stopped once more. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" She screamed.

Scabior looked back at her. "… Surviving. This is what people have to do in these times, Darling." He took off the bodies' gloves and shoved them in his own pocket.

"Monster!" Hermione shrieked.

"Been called worse," Scabior returned. He frowned when he felt something in the man's pocket and started to pull it out. "What's this?"

Hermione felt like she was out of her own body as she watched Scabior pull out what looked like a pocketwatch from the man's pocket. But, it wasn't a pocket watch. Gold, circular, a few rings composed most of its body, and an hourglass was at its center. Time turner, her mind screamed. Her heart stopped once again when she saw him turn one of the rings. She was running towards him before she could even register she was moving. "NO!"

**A/N: Yay, long chapter, and it's a cliffie. I'm about to head to the Midnight showing a couple of hours early, so… we'll see where this takes us. REVIEW!**


	7. In the Pouring Rain

**A/N: Taking a little artistic license in uses of the Patronus charm here.**

* * *

The next few seconds passed in a flash. Hermione ran over and tried to get the time turner from him, but she moved the wrong way at the last minute and ended up having one hand on the inside of the circle made by the chain. A moment later, the world blurred around the pair of them. Once it stopped, Hermione yanked the trinket away from him.

Scabior gaped at the new surroundings around them. The bodies were clear, and the foliage around them was completely dead. "What… jus' happened?"

"You just used a time turner, you_ idiot!_" Hermione replied. "Now we're in the middle of… who knows what this place has become, and… we don't even know when we are. Are you happy?"

"How the bloody Hell was I supposed to know? You could've told me!"

"I tried!" Hermione shrieked. "Were you too consumed by greed to hear me?" She demanded.

Scabior scowled. "Next time try harder to stop me if you're so desperate to make curiosity a sin."

"What? You expect me to be okay with the fact that I'm now stuck who knows where with a man who views me as a piece of meat?"

Scabior smirked. "It's better than the imminent death you'd face with your useless, pathetic little friends-"He was cut off sharply when her hand flew across his face hard. He looked back at her and a look of madness crossed his eyes. He backhanded her in retaliation, nearly sending her to the ground. The girl gaped up at him, pressing her hand to her cheek. He advanced on her, and stopped a couple of feet away, satisfied with the look of terror she had on her face. "Right. I'm sick of that happening to me, so let's just stop that now, shall we?" He snarled. He raised his wand at her, and tried not to smirk as the look of terror just about doubled. He flicked his wrist, and her wand came flying out of her jacket and into his hand. "…Strike one, Lovely." He turned on her and started walking off in the opposite direction.

Hermione let her hand drop and she advanced on him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Finding out when and where we are if you're correct." He replied without turning back.

"We're in the middle of nowhere, and if we haven't moved, there are no towns for miles!" Hermione objected.

"Well then, I better get started walking, shouldn't I?" Scabior shot back, continuing to move on.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and watched him for a couple of minutes. He made it quite far before she started to question staying put or not. He was just about giving her the opportunity to run free now. One problem- she had no idea where or when she was, like he had said, and he was also the only familiar face, possibly for miles. Problem two, she was stuck with him of all people. He had just backhanded her and seemed… aroused at her horror. He was a monster, barely any humanity in him. She wouldn't be surprised if his worry for Smitt had all been an act. Then again, following him had kept her alive for the most part so far. She groaned and started walking after him. She wondered how long her luck would last like this. The pair kept walking in silence for hours until they came to a deserted main road. Scabior looked both ways, looking for any sign of what direction would work out for them. He sighed and raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" A jet of white light that morphed into a wolf exploded from the end of his wand.

Hermione watched the wolf run a few feet in the air, then start to come back around. She wondered just what memory a man like Scabior could've focused on for that spell.

Scabior looked at the wolf. "Go that way. If the way is clear and there's any sign of civilization. Come back to me if there is."

The wolf shot off to the left.

Scabior tugged his jacket closer around himself and started on his way down the road in the opposite direction of the wolf.

Hermione hesitated once again, looking after the wolf, then Scabior. She followed him once again, still keeping a fair distance between them. Was she going to get her wand back any time soon? Had he moved them from his jacket to somewhere else? Were they easily accessible? She picked up her pace and started to come up with backup plans for her defense if come need be.

A few minutes later, a steady rain had started up, and the two of them were already drenched. They had fallen into step with each other. It seemed as if they had come to a silent agreement- the day's earlier events would be forgotten in this case, since everything seemed to be going wrong for them. The silence between them was deafening. However, neither of them were in any mood to break it. They were tired, miserable, cold, and confused. They turned a sharp corner, and a small spark of hope they refused to let grow started up when they saw a farmhouse a couple of hundred feet away. They made their way over to it. When they reached the front, Scabior drew his wand and pointed it at the deadlock that was on the door.

"Breaking and entering now, too?" Hermione snarled.

"I told you before, I like 'surviving' better." Scabior shot back. "Looks abandoned, probably is abandoned…" He heard a click and nudged the door open with his fingertips. He slid inside, keeping his wand hand up and ready. He went through a couple of the rooms, and Hermione followed. He caught a familiar spell and lowered his wand. He had caused it too many times. There wasn't any threat in the house- not anymore, anyway. He followed the smell to a room that's door was closed, ignoring Hermione's murmuring about the smell. He pushed the door open, and sure enough, two dead bodies were inside. He didn't bother turning to the girl when she let out a yelp upon seeing the sight before tearing away from the hallway. She was weak- he expected nothing more. He heard the front door swing open and slam shut. He didn't expect her to make it that far, he'd admit that. He moved onto the other rooms. He found the kitchen and started going through the cabinets, looking for food or any other useful objects. He stuck a couple of knives into his boots, and pocketed a few stale rolls. Sure, it wasn't much for a meal, but they'd have to deal with it. Who knows when they would get the next chance. He tried not to laugh at himself. Amazing how days ago, he was wondering how she would fit under him, and now he was saying 'they'- he was looking out for her. That was only because if anyone asked him, he'd look to her for answers. She clearly knew more about what was going on than he did. He sighed and headed out of the door. He glanced over as she shuffled over to him, looking like Hell. Her eyes looked glossy and her lip was trembling. "Don't just muck about, go clean yourself up."

"It's not my home to do what I please in." Hermione shot back.

Scabior made a face. "I don't think they'll mind much."

"You're despicable,"

"No, I just know how the real world works, Love."

"Don't call me that,"

"You think you can stop me? That's adorable." Scabior smirked.

Hermione scowled, then turned away. A moment later, she felt him grab her arms. She let out a yelp of protest, more so when he forced her down to the ground and just about lay half on top of her. "What are you DOING?"

"Shh! Stay down. Someone's coming, and I won't have you being heard so we get attacked." He hissed.

A few moments later, someone came running over from one of the hills in the vicinity. "You there! Who are you?"

Scabior's lip curled and he got up, grasping for his wand.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and looked at the newcomer that Scabior looked bent on harming. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the man as Seamus' father. She knew him, and she knew Scabior was probably just about to kill him. "NO!" She grabbed the Snatcher's wand arm.

Seamus' father, John Finnegan, frowned. "Hermione? Hermione Granger, is that you?" He recognized the girl from the introduction his son had made between them during the childrens' third year.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Finnegan," She replied, then cast a look at Scabior. "… Please…" She whispered.

Scabior frowned at her, then at her hand, still on his arm. He pressed his lips into a thin line and slowly lowered his wand.

Hermione let go of his arm, but kept watching him, just in case.

John frowned. "Hermione, what are you doing here? And who's this?"

It finally occurred to Hermione that she didn't know the snatcher's name- just nicknames that Smitt had mentioned- there was Scabe, but she doubted that was a full name. "… Apparation gone wrong… and… this is… this is Max. He… his home was attacked by Death Eaters a few days back. He was the only survivor. I found him, we agreed it was better if we stick together."

Scabior looked at the man and smiled sheepishly, trying to sell her story. It faded when John didn't look convinced.

Hermione struggled for words. "… He… he doesn't talk much… who could blame him, with all he's been through lately?"

John frowned, then nodded. "Right… but… I meant… in the O'Dowd's house… they… they were murdered, Hermione. We've been too afraid to go in any longer than we need to… we hate leaving them there, but…"

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded slowly herself. "I understand… these are different times now."

John smiled weakly, then looked at Scabior. "So… you lost everyone as well?"

Scabior pulled a just-coming-out-of-shock face and nodded. "Yes… it was… just… horrible… horrible."

"Poor man. Come on, you two. You look freezing and hungry, my house's just up the hill there. Let's get you fed and warmed up."

Hermione stopped and opened her mouth to protest. She didn't want to put them in danger. God only knew what Scabior could and would do to the man and his wife- and possibly Seamus, if the boy was home. "Oh no, we couldn't intrude…" She froze when Scabior put his hand on her shoulder to silence her.

"Nonsense. Who knows the next time we'll be able to get a good meal." Scabior shrugged.

John's almost hurt look faded quick and he smiled. "At least you have your senses. Come on, it's the least I can do when I nearly killed you two thinking you were looting." He turned away.

Hermione turned and glared at Scabior, who shrugged. She advanced on them. "They're good people. If you harm them-"

"I'm not going to harm them, _Hermione_." Scabior replied.

Hermione froze, and her eyes widened slightly.

Scabior smirked, and finally started to follow John. "You never looked like a Penelope, anyway." He winked at her, and the girl shuddered, slowly following after them, making sure to keep close to John.

* * *

Hermione stared blankly at the fire in the Finnegan's fireplace. She tugged absentmindedly at the clothes she had been given- a pair of Seamus' mother, Jeannie's, old jeans, and one of Seamus' t-shirts and sweatshirts. She hated having Scabior out of her sight, for fear of the Finnegan's lives, but she was going to have to deal. He was only supposed to be gone a few minutes, however, because he too was getting changed into a set of John's old clothes. Scabior being almost forced to agree to changing had made for an interesting sight. He had stared at the jeans, t-shirt and sweater in John's arms, at his own soaked clothes, and back before giving John a look that Hermione was convinced was plotting the other man's demise. She leaned closer to the fire, then spotted a copy of the Daily Prophet. Her heart skipped a beat and she practically dove for it. She nearly sent it flying into the fire in the process.

"Ah, there you are. They fit you nicely."

Hermione turned at John's voice, then tried not to laugh at the sight to behold. Who knew something involving Scabior would make her laugh, but it was hard not to. The jeans he had changed into were at least a couple of sizes too large (at least, compared to the plaid ones he seemed so fond of), and the turtleneck sweater went right up to the edge of his chin. The snatcher, in turn, was wide-eyed, looking quite uncomfortable with the change of apparel. He caught Hermione finally break and smile for a moment and glared at her before crossing the room and sitting across from her. He edged closer to the fire, then spotted the Prophet in Hermione's lap. His eyes flicked up to hers in question.

Hermione glanced at John. "Is this from today, Mr. Finnegan?"

"Please, call me John, and yes. Who would've thought they would still arrive, hm?"

The other two mumbled in agreement, then looked at the date. It was only ten days since they had left. So, they hadn't gone that far into time, but who knows what might have happened in that time. They leaned back, then glanced up when they saw Jeannie enter the room, frowning at something in her palm.

"Hermione, I just found this in your pocket… it's kind of an odd little trinket to carry around when it's broken like this… do you want to see if I can fix it for you?"

The pair froze again. They only knew one trinket that she could've had, and they didn't quite like 'broken' fit in with that. They both looked up slowly, and sure enough, Jeannie held up the time turner- that was bent at a couple of odd angles, and one ring was completely off kilter from the others. They swallowed hard in unison, and for the first time, looked at each other with something other than anger or mockery- they shared a look of apprehension. Now they were stuck there for a while, because they highly doubted a time turner could get fixed properly with a few spells. Now what?


	8. Turn Around and Leave Again

Hermione woke up very slowly the next morning. She was sore, cold, and the couch didn't seem as comfortable than it had the previous night. She sat upright and looked around. Her heart sunk instantly. No trace of Scabior or the Finnegans, and she was confident that he had passed out first last night. She scrambled to her feet and looked around for a wand of any kind, assuming the worst. "Mr. Finnegan? Mrs. Finnegan?" She called. She made it into the kitchen and sighed in relief, seeing Seamus' parents looking at her curiously.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm, um, fine. Where's… where's Max?"

The couple exchanged looks, and Jeannie spoke up. "Well, John woke up last night and came down to see him wandering around the house talking to himself, and… well, John wasn't quite comfortable with that. He asked the man to stay in the barn- just to make him feel better. Your friend understood."

Hermione rocked from foot to foot. "Is my necklace…?"

"Not repaired, I still have it on the counter there." Jeannie replied, motioning at the time turner on the corner of the counter, just as she had said.

Hermione frowned. Where was he, then? Was he even going to still be in the barn? Did he apparate and leave her here? He probably would've. She excused herself and headed out the front door. It only occurred to her that she had no idea just where 'the barn' was. She settled for starting to walk in a circle around the house. She found the barn, but didn't need to head there. The black mass against the tree to the barn's left was enough for Hermione to know that her first assumption was wrong. She stepped closer to be sure. Scabior was indeed against the tree, apparently fast asleep. He had changed back into his normal clothes as well. She honestly was at a loss. Other than being lost in time, even such a small window, what purpose did he have sticking with her other than toying with her? He worked for the Dark Lord, so if he apparated there was no harm done… right? She got closer.

He was still and silent for a couple of moments, then spoke without opening his eyes. "So what's the plan, then?" He squared his shoulders, but made no other movements.

Hermione stumbled back, startled.

Scabior opened one eye, then arched its respective eyebrow. "Well…?"

Hermione stared, then pulled a face at him. "Why should I be the one who has the plan? You're the fearless leader, aren't you? You should have some plan by now."

Scabior opened his other eye now and shrugged. "Doesn't mean it's my job to correct a mistake that you made."

Hermione scoffed. "I made? This isn't my fault!"

"You could've warned me."

"You could've listened." Hermione shot back, then flinched. "Look, I said it before. Arguing isn't going to help this in any way. We have to get the time turner fixed, we have to go back to our time, and then we go on with our lives."

"But arguing with you is fun, Luv. You're the first worthy opponent I've had in ages."

Hermione frowned, then crossed her arms. "They think they're helping you. The least you could've done was wear the clothes they gave you for a while."

Scabior leaned forward. "Did you completely forget about my 'survival' talk? These have done me well for years. Far as I'm concerned, I'm naked without them. Same reason why I didn't argue leaving the house and coming out here- can't sleep on furniture." He smirked when Hermione gawked, then promptly turned red. "Like the visual, Lovely?"

"No, I don't. I'm not attracted to men who slap me."

"You didn't seem to have any problem when your ginger friend yanked you about when you were getting away from my men and I."

"He was keeping me away from you, and your men tossed me around more than he did!" Hermione snapped. "I mean-"

"Hermione, Max, is everything alright?"

Hermione forced a smile in half a second and turned around. Jeannie had just about snuck up on them. "Fine, just making sure Max was okay out here."

Scabior leaned away from her and raised his hand, wiggling his fingers in an overly-cheesy wave he thought 'Max' might do.

Jeannie waved back, then looked between them. "I'm about to start making breakfast, just so you know. You're welcome to come in or have it out here."

"Out here's fine, thank you." Scabior replied before Hermione got a chance. Hermione looked back at him, then to Jeannie again. She offered a smile and nodded.

Jeannie headed back into the house.

Hermione turned around. "They're only trying to be hospitable. We could just have breakfast with them."

"No. We need a plan and we need it fast. I don't know where my people are, and you don't know where Potter and the Ginger-"

"His name is Ron,"

"-Where Potter and _The Ginger_ are, and I don't like that-"

"Your people are probably all with Greyback, and last I checked he wants to kill you-"

Scabior jabbed a finger in her direction. "Don't you dare challenge the loyalty of my men." He snarled.

"Don't challenge the intelligence and strength of my friends." Hermione countered again.

Scabior scowled. "Find out from them where the nearest train station is. We may have to go that way to get out of here and to where we're headed."

"Which is?" Hermione demanded.

"Your dear old Hogwarts." Scabior replied.

"You're not going anywhere near Hogwarts."

"We may not have a choice." Scabior shot back.

"First of all, _you and I_ do. There is no 'we.'"

"Really? I seem to recall _you_ saying 'we' first."

"It hardly has the same meaning- and there w- you and I are arguing again. Stop this now!"

"Sure thing, Mum."

"Do you always come onto people who you compare to your mother?" Hermione countered.

Scabior licked his lips and half-smiled, which nearly terrified the girl "Oh ho ho, the girl bites. Touché."

Hermione scoffed, then turned, walked, and sat down a few feet away. She wasn't going to encourage him more. Then one of her own points sunk in. Her 'tossing around' argument was bad- he hadn't tossed her around once- he had just gotten… _handsy. _Not even that_. _Just up close and personal. Questions of why crossed her mind, but she wouldn't ask him. It would just get him off that he had gotten to her so easily. She settled for huffing and pretended to be distracted by something in the grass. Jeannie came back out with a tray shortly after and set it between the two of them. Hermione pretended not to notice the questioning look she wore. The younger woman thanked the elder, and Jeannie was on her way again.

The pair just stared at the few pieces of toast and fruit on the tray, waiting for the other to take something first. With a groan of annoyance, Scabior was the first to pick up a piece of toast. He started eating it, and Hermione tried not to show surprise. She had expected him to scarf everything down in a heartbeat, knowing his type's personality and lack of needs most took advantage of having. He was eating just like she would've at any time before the war had really kicked off. Her noticing hadn't gone unnoticed.

Scabior looked up at her. "What?" He asked around a mouthful of food.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked away. Well, at least his manners matched up with what she assumed they would be. She took a slice of toast herself and started to nibble on it. She didn't know when the next time the two of them would get real food would be, so she was going to make it last. The two ate in silence, and somehow, some way, it was an oddly comfortable silence. Who would've thought, after all the arguing and slapping around? Once they finished, they headed back inside. Hermione handed the tray back over to Jeannie. A silence passed between the women, and unlike the one she had been involved in minutes ago, theirs made Hermione uncomfortable. The uneasiness grew when John joined them in the kitchen, and Scabior was still in the living room, rearranging the contents of his jacket pockets to see how much more he could fit inside.

"Listen, Mrs. Finnegan… we… we appreciate all you've done for us the last couple of days, but we really do need to be going. We'd feel bad intruding." She explained, then stopped. Scabior was right. Since when had they become 'we'? He had tried to turn them into Voldemort days- or months, she didn't even know anymore, ago. They were certainly not 'we' material. "But… we could use a ride to the nearest train station so we can follow the tracks and be on our way back to the school."

Jeannie frowned. "Your friend is… a bit old for Hogwarts, isn't he? He doesn't look like any teacher I've seen…"

"He's… related to Remus Lupin. Second cousins, or something. He just wants to check on him." Hermione replied.

John sighed, then leaned forward. "Hermione, sweetheart, look… he just… he seems okay, but at the same time… just… there's something off about him. You take care of yourself, and watch your back around him. I wouldn't want to see anything happen to one of Seamus' friends- least of all by someone's you know's hand. Just… just watch out for you and you alone… especially now."

Hermione looked down to try to avoid bursting into tears. She felt like she was betraying them by playing dumb, and she barely knew them. "I'll be sure to do that. Thank you, really."

John and Jeannie nodded and smiled. John alone pushed off of the counter and clapped his hands. "Alright, sounds like we made an agreement. Now let's get you to the train station."

* * *

Within an hour, they had all reached the train station, using the Finnegan's truck. The two headed inside to get away from most of the crowd. They looked around at the schedules, trying to figure out whether or not they should risk going on one of the trains, or do what Hermione had said and just follow the tracks.

"You know, I've always hated trains… any vehicles, really… gets rid of the fresh air… the freedom you feel" Scabior mused aloud, glancing up as the platform signs started to change over to the trains coming later. He saw a teenage boy staring at him with an amused smirk on his face. "What're you lookin' at?"

The boy scoffed.

Scabior growled and started to advance on the teen, who in turn, took off. Scabior took another step forward, but Hermione turned, grabbed his wrist and gave it a good yank, sending Scabior stumbling back to her. "Not. Helping. People aren't accustomed to seeing people looking like you around here."

"_Obviously."_ He glanced down, noticing that she still hadn't let him go.

Hermione glowered at him, then started back towards the exit, pulling him behind her. She was surprised once more than he was only giving about half of a fight against getting guided around. "You're right. Thinking we could do it this way was a bad idea. Follow the tracks it is. This time, I'll do the patronus." She guided him down the stairs, finally picking up on all the strange looks Scabior was getting. No wonder he wanted to beat up the boy. The two snuck back to the opposite end of the station, where the ground-level track was. "Expecto Patronum!" The silver otter bounced around before Hermione gave it the same order Scabior had given his. She dragged him in the opposite direction. She had a feeling that they were in for a long journey ahead of them once again. She just hoped that they weren't too late- for Harry, or anyone- or anything, at this rate.


	9. Don't Know Nothin' 'Bout That

**A/N: An illustration for this chapter and drawings of Smitt and Adele should be up on my profile soon. I drew the former already and I'm gonna try and get it up on here tonight, depending on how badly I massacre it on Photoshop. Anyways, this chap is kinda lame. I hope you enjoy anyways. I don't own HP, blah blah blah.**

**HP HP HP**

The pair had been walking for hours, and everywhere they went, they felt like they were going in circles. There was always a familiar tree, or house, or fence. They were backed to being tired, miserable, and soaked through. That changed when an odd, out of place gust of wind went around Scabior. The snatcher recognized it, then stopped and frowned. "Did you just feel- OOF!"

Hermione let out a shriek when she saw someone come literally out of thin air, then firmly tackle Scabior to the ground. She gawked, then realized she recognized his attacker- his apparent attacker, anyway. It was Smitt, and he looked downright mad.

Smitt looked up at her, and the madness faded from his eyes. His hand shot out. "Come here. NOW!"

Hermione hesitated. She still wasn't sure whether or not to trust him. However, the sudden appearance of black smoke indicating a Death Eater apparating close by made up her mind for her. Right when the Death Eater landed, Hermione threw herself forward and took hold of Smitt's hand. She felt what she assumed was the feeling of getting squeezed through a small pipe, and then everything was a blur. She was barely aware of someone groaning in pain before there was ground under her again. She felt someone pull her up, and when she recognized the gloved hand, she promptly let go and pushed herself up the rest of the way.

Scabior wouldn't let up though, and he moved his hand to just under her arm to steady her. The snatcher looked back at Smitt, and promptly changed his opinion on who needed to be looked after more.

Smitt was kneeling a few feet away, keeping himself upright with his arm. He had a gash on his forehead, but his blood-soaked shirt made the pair realize that his headwound wasn't his primary injury. "You… need… stay put. The Dark Lord… … Lord… is looking for both of you. Greyback's... said you're a traitor to him… that you're… helping her escape… " He looked at Hermione. "And just the fact… that you… are friends with… James' son…" He panted, and his arm buckled.

"Smitty!" Scabior barked, letting go of Hermione and bolting over to his friend before he hit the ground. "Smitty, stay with me. Did… did He do this to you? What happened?"

"… You said yourself working both sides would never work for me, Scabe…" Smitt coughed.

"Shut it, Smitty… Marcus…" Scabior snapped, shedding his jacket and trying to find one of the wands inside it. He tossed one arm around his friend when Smitt started to fall back. "No. You are not dying- not from murder, anyway."

"No… just… get out. Call us even. You saved my life, I saved yours by telling you run now- I'm not gonna make it. He probably can… sense when you use magic if he's after you." Smitt replied.

"You saved my life twice, you git. We're not even at'all. You are not dying on me. You have so much to live for. " Scabior growled. " 'Ermione!"

Hermione was so stunned at the new sight, it took her a moment to realize she had been called. "Yes?"

Scabior tossed her her wand. "Take this, keep an eye out. Don't do anything stupid." Smitt groaned behind him, and Scabior turned, shaking his shoulder. "Stay. With. Me. I swear, Marcus. If you die, I'll kill you."

Despite the pain, Smitt managed a weak laugh at the comment. "She… won't need to. Safehouse… enchanted… took years to perfect 'em."

Scabior frowned and brought his wand up. "Vulnera Sanentur…" He pressed the tip of his wand to Smitt's chest, and the man arched up and let out a pained yowl. Scabior frowned. Did Voldemort bewitch the wound to get worse if someone tried to heal it? Just how did the Dark Lord know that Smitt knew him? He repeated the spell and tried again. Smitt let out another yowl, but it was weaker. Scabior noticed the spell seemed to be working- Smitt's wounds were healing, but dreadfully slowly. He kept at it, muttering apologies, to Hermione's surprise, as he did so.

The way the Snatcher was just short of being frantic made Hermione wonder just who the two men were to each other. Relatives? Comrades? Friends?

"Hermione… Hermione, is it?"

Hermione looked back at the two men. Scabior had slowed down his efforts at healing, and Smitt already looked better than he had moments before. He was still pale and battered, but there was less blood, and there was a small amount of life back in his eyes. "Yes…?" She scrambled to his side.

"Back… pocket… there's… a box… get it, hold it up to the door there." He raised his pointer finger and pointed to the right- at a small house that Hermione hadn't even noticed was there.

Hermione nodded and reached into his pocket as instructed. She pulled out a small, stained, wooden box. She pushed herself upright and headed for the door. He had just said hold the box up to the door. What would happen now? She didn't have long to wonder.

The box started to float out of her palm, and Hermione watched as it did so. It levitated over to the door of the small house, and when it got to be about a foot away, it started to change shape. It flattened out, and grew what looked like ridges in several places. It floated the rest of the way to the door, then attached itself to the wood. There was a low clicking sound, and the door slowly.

Hermione turned back and opened her mouth to tell them that the door had opened. She saw that Scabior had already pulled Smitt against his side and was dragging him towards the house. She hurried to push the door open more for them. When Smitt crossed the threshold, the box-turned-plank went back to its original form and practically threw itself into Smitt's pocket. The girl hurried after them, watching as Scabior quickly made his way through the house and into a small bedroom. He set Smitt down on one of the three beds inside, then sat beside his friend. "You tell me right now if I missed anything , or I punch your lights out and ensure I didn't miss anything."

Smitt groaned. "You're fine… now get the Hell out of here. He must have people tracking me by now. This place is a safehouse for me… who knows if it works the same for you. Damn it, I came here to warn you, not drag you in to help me."

"You think I would let you die after everything?" Scabior snapped.

"… Yes."

Scabior growled and prodded the skin over one of Smitt's shoulder wounds that still hadn't healed all the way.

Hermione gawked at the man's inhumane action, then stopped when Smitt hissed. She settled down when the man proceeded to chuckle at Scabior's comment. It didn't last long. "But… really… you need to run. Now."

"I'm done running, and I'm not leavin' you 'ere." Scabior replied.

"I told you, we're even."

"We're not even until I pull you out of a burning building after you've been knocked unconscious by a fallen bit of wood. Now, shut it and rest."

"Oooh, I hate you." Smitt replied.

Scabior smiled- honestly smiled. The action threw Hermione for a loop. "No you don't." He replied.

Smitt sighed. "I will if you don't get the Hell out of here."

"We'll leave the room, that's all you're getting." Scabior replied, then headed out of the room.

Hermione hesitantly followed him into the living room. She watched him sit down against one of the walls, and leaned back against the one closest to her. The silence that followed was less comfortable than their last. "So… do you think he's right? Will people come after us?"

Scabior eyed her, then put his hands out in front of him, pretending to be interested in something on his nails again. "No idea. Possibly, but do you think we're really one of His proprieties? He's looking for your friend."

"Exactly. If He wants to get to… … … my friend, he may want to use me… get to me to get to him."

Scabior stared, then scoffed.

Hermione frowned. "What?"

"This is Him we're talking about. If we're… days from where… when, we were… it's crunch time, Beautiful. It's your boy, or it's nothing."

Hermione tried not to whimper. She hadn't thought about that. She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her chin to her chest. After silence passed again, she figured there was no sense in keeping it. "…So… who is he? Smitt?"

Scabior, who had also looked down, looked up at her and tilted his head as if he doubted she was even interested. Once he realized she was, he licked his lips. "… My ex right 'and man. Better than Wolfie ever was, I can tell you that."

" 'Ex'?"

There was that half genuine, half mocking smile again. "One case, 'bout nine years back… early on for Smitty and I... our hunt went good for him, bad for us. We had to hunt down some… group for… some reason. We got a handful of them… one of them got to Smitty. Two cases of Stockholm and Lima Syndrome later, he's protecting this woman. Our boys at the time told me to handle it, if you catch my drift. I couldn't do that at all- he was my mate, and as you 'eard, he saved my life too many times. So, I let them go- told the boys I killed the both of them. Now, here we are, years later…" The prideful look that was just beginning to develop in his eyes faded. "… And Corrine is dead, and their daughter is who-knows-where."

Hermione inhaled sharply. "They have a daughter?" Her heart broke all over again for the man.

"Hope they still do…would call for a very angry godfather if they hurt little Angie in any way, too." Scabior nodded.

The pain was back in his eyes, and Hermione finally registered that he was the godfather in question. It all hit her at once. He wasn't just some pure enemy of theirs. In the end, he was just an average bloke, doing his job- doing what brought in money for him. Sure, he wasn't completely stable, but when it was all said and done, he was just like her. He was someone stuck in a situation they didn't want to be in, and trying any way to get out of it. She opened her mouth to say something- anything, but she couldn't even find the words.

Scabior watched her, then sighed when she looked away and blushed. "We'll find a way back, you know."

Hermione looked at him before curling back up, resting her chin on her arms and putting them on her bent knees. She didn't know why he was suddenly being so nice. Maybe it was humbling saving your friend from near death. She didn't want to know, either. She would take the kindness any chance she got. "…So now what?"

"We wait- just in case Smitty was right and someone's coming after us. It was probably just a message for us- stay away, or this is what's waiting for us… I don't know."

"How long?"

"I'd say we're safe after a day- no chance anyone's coming after us then." Scabior replied.

Hermione nodded, then turned her head towards the hallway leading to the bedroom. "… Do you think he'll be alright?"

Scabior smirked. "Smitty? Of course. 'E's 'ad far worse than this, and it's taken longer for him to heal. He just needs to rest now."

Hermione squirmed. "We should be doing that, too."

"Oh, so now it's 'we' again?"

Hermione squirmed, then sighed. She knew it wouldn't last long. "Is there another room in here?"

Scabior shook his head. "No. Take the bunk across from Smitty. I'll keep watch. I've worked on less hours of sleep. Lock yourself in, if it makes you feel better."

Hermione frowned, then nodded. She got back up and headed into the back room. With a glance at Smitt, she tried to make her way over to the second bunk with as little as noise as possible. She got on it, dropped lower, and turned around. She closed her eyes and tried to settle down.

Then, out of the silence, came "… I'm sorry."

Hermione opened her eyes and turned slowly, seeing Smitt looking at her. "What?"

Smitt sighed and turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "If you're friends with… well, you know, you've had this coming, but… as far as… he's concerned…" He nodded towards the door. "I'm sorry,"

"It's not your fault." Hermione replied.

Smitt smiled weakly. "Look, he's like a brother to me, and we've been through lots of shit, but… I know how he gets when he's been on a case too long. He's damn near intolerable sometimes."

"Creepy and perverse is more like it." Hermione cut in, then flinched. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't say that now."

Smitt shook his head. "Don't worry about it, and don't worry, I won't ask for details. Like I said, just… " He hesitated. "If he hurts you, find me. I'll knock some sense into him for you."

Hermione offered a smile. "… You two seem so different. How do you…?"

"Tolerate each other? Not kill each other based on differences alone? I ask myself that every time I see the guy. Guess that's what saving each other on a daily basis way back when does to you. All the arguments "

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Don't I know it."

Smitty shrugged. "Guess you would, wouldn't you?"

Hermione leaned back. "… How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by the nightbus, but I've been in recovery for a while."

"Which means?" Hermione smiled.

"Would 'blah' work for you, then?" Smitt asked.

Hermione let out a small chuckle.

Smitt looked at her, and smiled himself. "There we go. That's it. You have her smile."

"Whose?" Hermione blinked.

"My daughter, Angie's." Smitt replied. His smile dropped, and Hermione knew exactly why.

"Well, I didn't hear her name when you… mentioned your wife. Is she… is she somewhere else? She could be safe."

Smitt shrugged. " 'could' being the operative word."

Hermione frowned, then jumped when there was a crash from outside. She bolted to her feet. Smitt did the same, stumbling as he did so.

"Scabior?" The man called. "Stay here, give me your wand."

Hermione stared, contemplating giving it to him for a couple of moments, then tossed it to him. He stumbled out of the room, wand drawn. "Scabe?" He called again.

"It's fine!" Scabior called, turning the corner.

Smitt tossed his arms out. "What was that, then?"

Scabior raised his own hand, which was fisted around two dead rats' tails. "Found dinner…"

Smitt's expression went from one of confusion, to concern, to distaste. "Tell me you didn't use the Killing Curse on rats, man…"

Scabior frowned, then looked from side to side. "Well…"

Smitt scoffed, then closed the distance between them and took the rats. "Give me those, before you maim them any further. Hermione, everything's okay!" He went back into the room to return her wand, then came back out. "Let me cook the damn things."

"No, you're going to rest. Let her do the cooking."

"Because she's a woman, right?" Smitt rolled his eyes.

"Wha- no!"

Smitt gave him another disapproving look.

Scabior made a face. "Wha'ever. You're worse than my father, and I'm older than you." He stopped and gawked when Smitt smacked him on the cheek. "Oi! What was that for?"

"Having absolutely no respect for a woman, you idiot."

"Thought we agreed that respecting was your job. I just did the seducing."

Smitt arched an eyebrow. "And how's that going with Hermione?"

Scabior opened his mouth.

Smitt put his hand up. "Don't you dare. That was rhetorical. Hermione… you try anything with her, and we're gonna have words… and maybe a few swings. Got it?"

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" Scabior asked.

"The girl looks like a perfect mix between my girls. I don't wanna lose them all over again, to anything… or anyone. Least of all my best friend. You understand?"

"Crystal clear," Scabior rolled his eyes, then flinched when Smitt smacked him again. "I hate you."

"No you don't. Now, let's get these things cooked up before she thinks we're both lost causes."


	10. Crowded Dark Hallways

Within an hour, the new trio had come across a small town- a town that Smitt's wife had apparently grown up in. They made their way towards a pub in the center of it. While Scabior and Hermione were determined to simply relax, Smitt was determined to get some answers. The man was no fool, and he could tell when his old friend and his latest catch were keeping secrets. Once the three of them were in the alley beside the pub, Hermione ducked down, and with a quick transfiguration spell, turned her hair brown, and her eyes green. Sure, it probably wasn't enough to trick enchantments, but it was change enough to trick passersby. They went into the bar, and instantly regretted it. The place was dark and dank, and Scabior had a feeling that one of his men or Death Eaters were around. "Forget it. We ain't stayin' 'ere. We'll get somethin', then get out."

"By getting you mean stealing?" Hermione asked.

Scabior smirked. "You catch on fast, Witch. Good job."

Hermione made a face at him, which only caused the smirk to get wider.

The snatcher turned his attention to Smitt. "I think we need to pull an Allibaster."

Smitt frowned. "As in the Three Broomsticks five years back?"

Scabior nodded.

Smitt groaned. "Come on, man! Deline's not here, that means one of us is gonna have to get mauled and being that you're 'too pretty' or whatever you called yourself back then to do it, that means I will. I just recovered from a sprained wrist."

"And now you have someone who can take care of it since you and… … the family had that whole no-magic-unless-absolutely necessary thing going on." Scabior replied.

Smitt sighed. "Fine. Whatever, go on. Hermione, with me. I hope you're a good actress."

Hermione frowned, but followed the man all the same when Scabior just about shrunk back into the shadows of the pub to go somewhere further inside. "What's going on? Why do I need to be a good actress?"

"Because you're our poor little damsel in distress, a.k.a distraction, and I'm about to scream my lungs out at you and take a few swings. With any luck there are some good guys around here who'll come to your rescue."

"That's not quite comforting…" Hermione muttered.

Smitt shrugged. "I know, but if you have any desire to survive-"

"Please don't say that word when your friend back there seems to be obsessed with it."

"Ah, right. Well then, if you have any desire to have something that can resemble a good meal after those couple of rats divided between us all, you have to sell the whole damsel in distress thing." Smitt replied.

Hermione's frown deepened, then she sighed. "Fine. When do we start?"

"Now. And get ready to duck."

"What?"

Smitt's look of reassurance faded into a scowl fast. "YOU LYIN' WHORE!" He drew back his arm, and pending his look of warning, Hermione let out a yelp and ducked, just in time for the back of his hand to just miss her head completely.

Smitt lurched forward, and it took Hermione a moment to realize he was trying to come across as drunk out of his mind. The man started towards her, and she scrambled backwards. She saw Smitt's eyes flick to the right briefly, and when he raised his hand, she let her right arm drop so she lurched that way, just missing his hand. She tried not to smile when she saw him wink and smile at the fact she caught his meaning.

The man let the prideful look drop once again and continued the act. "TIME AND TIME AGAIN I DO EVERYTHING I CAN FOR YOU, WOMAN, AND YOU CHEAT ON ME WITH THE HELP?"

"I didn't!" Hermione objected, trying to play along as much as possible.

"QUIT LYIN'!" Smitt thundered back.

"I'm not, you ignorant bastard!" Hermione snapped.

Smitt tried not to look too stunned or impressed, and failed for a moment. "You little…" He advanced on her and raised his fist this time.

Hermione started to make an over-exaggerated cringe, when someone came up behind him and grabbed his arm. She tried not to smile at the victorious smirk Smitt got before he turned to her rescuer. "Who the Hell're you?"

The blonde arched an eyebrow. "The owner of the pub, mate. Leave the girl alone."

Smitt scowled. "This ain't none of your business. Scram."

"I will make it mine if it persists." The man replied.

"Well then, start makin' it." Smitt challenged, tossing his arms out. "I've taken her, I can take anyone you send my way."

The blonde arched his eyebrow again before turning to walk away.

Seeing that he was heading in Scabior's direction, Smitt grabbed the man by the shoulder, yanked him back, and punched him.

The blonde stumbled back and stared at Smitt before checking his mouth and nose for blood. There were no traces, but he looked murderous for a second before he tore off in the opposite direction.

Smitt glared after him, then pulled the right side of his mouth back to speak to Hermione without many seeing. "Alright, hopefully that'll be enough time for him. Now, we should leave before…" He froze when he saw the blonde man returning, with a man just larger than Smitt himself in tow. "…Well, shit, they're not supposed to be that big."

"What?" Hermione hissed, then gawked when the man, just bigger than Smitt, who was big to begin with, grabbed Smitt by the back of the shirt, yanked him up, and proceeded to toss him through the front window as if he was some lightweight sack of potatoes. The girl tried not to yell out in alarm and concern. She looked at her rescuer and tried to work up the doe-eyed-victim persona she had barely taken to as it was. "Um…"

The blonde nodded. "Think nothing of it, Sweetheart. He won't bother you again. We'll be sure of that if we see him around here again…"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, and then realized it seemed futile. She nodded quickly, then ran for the door. She made a show of going right. When she was confident that no patron could see her from the intact window on the other side, she pivoted and crouch-ran to the left, looking for her fallen companion. She let out a sympathetic hiss of pain when she saw him dragging himself away from shattered glass and mud. "… Are you okay?"

"Oh, fine, as good as a guy can get after getting thrown through a window by a guy who's probably part giant." Smitt snapped.

Hermione blushed. "Right, sorry, stupid question."

Smitt grunted, then when he moved his hand forward and heard a squelching sound, he flinched. And looked away. "I really hope that was only mud I just touched…"Hermione opened her mouth, and Smitt opened one eye a sliver. "Don't you dare."

The girl nodded.

The pair looked up when they saw two small things come flying out of the door. One was dark brown and looked like afew things hastily wrapped in brown leather or other material, and the other was black- Scabior's jacket- they realized, noticing the red band on the arm.

A moment later, Scabior backed out of the door slowly, but his back was to them. "Oh, come on, Gwen! I had things to do!" He was protesting. A moment later, a redhead came into sight and she was advancing on him hastily. Another moment passed, and there was a resounding slapping noise, and Scabior went stumbling back, getting almost as much distance as Smitt had.

Hermione looked back at Smitt and opened her mouth.

Smitt shrugged. "Don't know, don't much care to, either."

Scabior made his way over to them. "Time to go."

"Really?" The other two snapped.

Scabior nodded, then turned, trying to survey the area. His look of curiosity dropped in an instant when a small group of men, who had been heading into the bar, spotted him. Two of them were on horseback. "… Time to run is more like it."

Smitt looked in the direction he was looking. "… Oh, look. Raylan and his boys. You need to stop making enemies, man?"

Scabior arched an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, have we met?" He turned back to the leader of the group, Raylan, only to find that they were already speeding up towards his own group, drawing their wands. "MOVE!"

The three of them bolted apart, accidentally all going in different directions. While Hermione headed towards the other buildings in the town, the two men headed for the wooded area in the distance. The girl ducked into an alley, letting out a scream when part of the building's corner exploded behind her. She sped up, as did her thoughts. Would they come back for her? What if something happened? Was she on her own? Sure, she wouldn't mind that with Scabior, but she trusted Smitt for some reason- she knew he wanted to protect her. Oh, Smitt. If he didn't make it, what would happen to his daughter if she was still alive somewhere? She shook her head. There were people out to get her- again. She should've been more focused on getting away. She sped up once again, then did some complicated footwork to try and trick the others.

* * *

"You just can't stop yourself, can you?" Smitt called over the commotion down by their end.

"Oh, shut it. Don't tell me you don't miss the chase!" Scabior snapped, dodging what he figured was Crucio.

"I just got thrown through a window and now I'm getting chased, trying not to get killed. I don't miss it at all!" Smitt called, jumping over a ledge just as part of it disintegrated. "I will definitely kill you if we die!" He insisted.

"Whatever." He grabbed his companion, dragged him to the left, and the two skidded to a halt when they realized their path was blocked. The worry didn't last long, however. Partial relief came to mind, because the offending building was a stable, with one horse inside.

Smitt looked at Scabior. "Well?"

Scabior shoved him towards the stable. "I run faster. You go." The snatcher watched him for a moment, then ran and vaulted himself over the wood fence of the stable and onward as Smitt ducked under and inside. The snatcher continued running, dodging spells, until he came to a realization. There were two others on horseback going after him. Smitt had just set off to get on the horse. That left an easy solution for him. The trick was just getting from point A to point B. He groaned, sidled against the back of the building, and turned around. He ran back around the rest of the building and then pressed himself against it before getting up on the ledge connecting it to the next one. He listened for hoof beats, and sure enough, he heard them a moment later. They were getting closer and closer. Scabior moved closer to the side of the building.

Closer… closer… closer… and… NOW.

Scabior threw himself off the ledge, and just in time, as well. He landed on his pursuer's horse, right behind the rider. The rider turned his head and was about to yell in protest when Scabior brought his head back and connected it with the other man's. The man lurched forward, caught off guard, and Scabior took the moment to his advantage and tossed the rider off.

The horse neighed in protest, and Scabior slid up its back, getting a hold on the reigns. "If you ruin our escape, you're going to be dinner for a month." He threatened before yanking on the right side of the reigns and digging his heels in to the horses' sides. The horse neighed again, but followed the given order and veered right.

Scabior looked around. There was no sight of Smitt, and that honestly worried him. Smitt was a good right hand man. He had always come to check on Scabior, or went out of his way to get back to him if they were separated. Then again, where was Hermione as well? The girl was smart, he knew that much. She probably knew too much running from these men wouldn't end well. "PENELOPE!" He barked. He wasn't going to scream her real name- it would start too much trouble. He ducked another spell, and another kick later, he had the horse galloping down the clearest path. "PENELOPE!" He barked, then heard a familiar shriek, and then one of their pursuer's went flying across a connecting path. He steered the horse in that direction, and sure enough, Hermione came charging away from that alley.

"Penelope!" Scabior barked, extending his arm to her. "Come on!"

"What?" Hermione demanded, not moving other than watching him pass by.

Scabior groaned, then yanked on the reigns when one of their pursuer's showed up on the other side of the alley. "Damn it!" He made the horse turn and charge again, and Hermione just gawked again. Scabior circled one last time, got the horse closer to her, and with excess strength he hadn't used for some time, bent down, grabbed her around the waist and just short of yanked her upright.

Hermione let out a yelp, and figuring that she had no other choice, scrambled up the rest of the way.

Satisfied she was on completely, Scabior made the horse go towards the pursuer this time. He took out his wand and sent a forcefield in the pursuer's direction, sending him sprawling back.

Hermione let out a whimper and shrunk back when dust and specks of debris fell on them as they passed the area. A moment later, she realized in doing so, she had pressed her back against his chest. She wanted to roll her eyes. It shouldn't have mattered at that moment. He had saved her numerous times now, and this was just another tally on that list. He let the horse weave in and out of the various pathways until they reached the end of the town. With a final glance around, Scabior was satisfied they had lost the other pursuers. He made the horse go on, praying that Smitt would meet them somewhere soon.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, Smitt came out of the woods, riding the horse that had been in the stable. He looked from Scabior, to Hermione and back, making sure Hermione didn't see when he raised an eyebrow at his friend.

Scabior shot him a warning look, then sighed, ignoring Hermione's resulting squirm. "Alright, last I checked, we're only a couple of days away from Hogwarts now. Time to see what 'Mione here and I have missed."

Smitt scrunched up his nose in confusion at his statement, then glanced at Hermione when she tensed over the nickname. "… What?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing. Let's just… let's just get there fast, alright? And one of us should get off the horse. The poor thing's probably in pain right now. I'll volunteer." She moved to get off, then Scabior put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "No you bloody will not." He swung one leg over, then dismounted himself, taking the horse by the reigns as he did so.

Hermione and Smitt exchanged looks of uneasiness, more about their situation than Scabior's attitude. They just hoped nothing else would go wrong.


	11. Fire Burning in Her Eyes

**A/N: Last chapter was kinda lighthearted, this one is fairly dark… and there's a really, really cliché scene to try and lighten things up and then it goes to semi dark again… yeaaaaah. Bending the rules on apparating certain things in here, too.  
**

* * *

Smitt sighed and leaned on a small boulder jutting out of the ground after the trio had been walking for a few hours straight. "… You know, I hate people that complain like I'm about to, but… how much longer do we have to walk?"

Hermione shook her head and looked around. "Not long at all. I recognize this place from when we're an hour away on the train." She glanced at the stream a few feet away, then looked at a stone beside Smitt's foot. She took her wand out, pretending to not see Scabior watching her like a hawk. She pointed it at the stone. "Veraverto." The stone stretched immediately into a small goblet. " ." It multiplied to three. Hermione went over, and tossed two of them to her companions. "We don't know when we'll come across it next."

Scabior pulled back one of the sides of his jacket and showed a flask. "Not a bad idea, Granger."

Hermione made a face at him, then went over to the steam to fill her own goblet, scooting over so Smitt could follow suit, and Scabior could fill both items. They all took their time drinking, then Smitt and Hermione walked off back to their seats, when Scabior stayed behind. To Hermione's surprise, the snatcher splashed water on his face and rubbed it. She thought him out of all the snatchers would've ignored hygiene altogether. He was just full of surprises, wasn't he? After a moment, she tried not to bury her face in her hands. Here she was, complaining about his hygeiene, when her own was probably horrible. She went back to where she had been while filling her goblet and splashed her own face. She stared at the water, contemplating her next move, when she realized she had nothing to lose. She leaned over more so most of her head was submerged and most of her hair got underwater as well. Sure, it wasn't much, and it probably wasn't completely sanitary, but at least it was close to a bath or shower compared to the lack thereof of late. She pulled back and pushed her hair back and out of her face, barely aware of Smitt's chuckle. Hermione looked back at Scabior, and for a while, just stared. Most of the kohl and dirt had started to wash off, and was collecting at the bottom of his jaw and neck. What she didn't expect was how different he looked. With the dirt and kohl, he looked threatening- like he meant business- that no matter what you tried to do to protest, he would end you or turn you in if you messed with him. Without it, he had this harmless look of boyish charm. No, not charm. She scolded herself. He just looked younger and more innocent, that was all. Unfortunately, her observation hadn't gone unnoticed.

Scabior had seen her staring at had settled to give himself away then. "Keep staring like that and your face will stay like that, Lovely. I wouldn't want that, and I doubt you would."

Hermione turned just short of beet red and looked away.

To make matters better or worse, Hermione couldn't tell, Smitt chimed in. "Big difference, isn't it? The makeup hides the kid within."

"Shut it, Smitty!" Scabior snapped.

Smitt shrugged. "Wish I had that, but noooo, I have to look at least ten years older than I am." He tapped the straight line of a scar running most of the span of his cheek. "I guess this doesn't help."

"Hush, you're gorgeous." Scabior said sarcastically.

Smitt looked at him and smirked, then winked at Hermione.

Hermione offered a smile, then pretended to get distracted by something in the water. She still wanted to know the reasoning behind Smitt and her earlier conversation- how could such a kind, respectful, sane man be so friendly with an unstable… mystery of a man?

The group rested in silence for a few minutes afterward, then proceeded to walk onwards. It was evening by the time they reached the woods that bordered the bridge that lead to Hogwarts. The entire time they were going through it, Hermione was half-listening to the banter Smitt and Scabior had started over an old job, arguing over who had gotten to their target first. She had just finished chuckling at Smitt saying, "You're just jealous I'm about as awesome as your pants" when she noticed something in the sky. Her heart skipped a beat and then plummeted hard and fast. The night sky had gotten a green hue- and she had seen the sky that color twice before. "No… … NO!" She took off running towards a small clearing in the distance to their right.

Smitt and Scabior were quick to follow her.

Hermione skidded to a halt roughly when she reached the end of the clearing, and started whimpering when she realized her fears had been confirmed. A Dark Mark had been conjured over the school. Before she knew it, her knees had given way, and she continued to stare up at one of evil's physical forms. What happened? What had she missed? Where was Harry? Where was Ron? Did they fail? Did they… She couldn't even finish the thought. She was sobbing a moment later.

Behind her, Smitt and Scabior saw what had caused her reaction and slowed their pace completely, just gawking at the sight to behold.

Hermione's verbal sobs had gone completely silent, and she was shaking. She had left them, and they failed, and the cost was their lives. There was no other explanation.

Smitt turned his eyes to Hermione and frowned. He knew he couldn't so much as imagine what was going through her head, between the thoughts and pain. He froze when he heard leaves crunching in the distance. Being that they were nowhere near leaves where they were, warning bells went off in his head. "Scabior…"

"Too late…"

Smitt turned to his friend, only to see him glaring at something behind them. The man turned slowly, and wasn't at all surprised to see Greyback and a couple of his own men coming towards them.

Greyback sneered. "Well well, Scabior the Coward, his lapdog Smitty, and the mudblood bitch. Oh, we'll have fun finishing you… just like we did with everyone in that school… we'll all have a few turns with the Mudblood… maybe we'll have you boys watch."

Smitt and Scabior both snarled and drew their wands, taking a couple of steps back towards Hermione, who now looked utterly terrified on top of completely broken, if that was even possible.

Greyback and his men drew their wands, and within a second, Unforgivable Curses were flying. Smitt dodged various spells in order to get to Hermione and managed to shove her behind a fallen log for cover before he continued retaliating against Greyback and his crew.

The witch barely even registered anything going on. She was still in shock from seeing the Dark Mark over the school and the inevitable meanings behind it. She didn't even hear Smitt bark a 'crazy-ass plan.' Needless to say, she was startled when he and Scabior landed next to her after vaulting over the log, just missing two Avada Kedavras. She felt Scabior grab her arm, and then the feeling of apparating.

After a few seconds, the ground came up to meet them. Smitt disappeared for another moment, then reappeared with one very startled looking horse. Hermione scrambled to her feet. She yanked her arm free of Scabior's grip. "Get off me!" She stumbled back, barely managing to get her footing on the ground. She didn't even care where they were.

Smitt stood slowly and put his hands out. "Hermione, listen, I can barely imagine what you must be going through right now-"

"NO! No you don't!" Hermione screamed. "I'm alone, and for all I know, everyone who I cared about is probably dead right now, and it looks like Death Eaters and You-Know-Who have taken over Hogwarts! Everyone was supposed to be safe there!" She continued. "And I missed helping them because I was stuck here because your friend doesn't know how to listen and didn't recognize a time turner! I should've died with them, I shouldn't be here, trying to get back!" She finished, before she was reduced to sobs again.

Scabior started walking over to her, and ignored the death glare Smitt had sent him. He didn't know why, maybe it was just the time spent with her now, but… … he didn't like seeing her so upset. It didn't suit her face, her body, her spirit. "Hermione, there was nothing you could've done…"

"I could've just let you disappear and fend on your own wherever you went! I could've run off any time we were together! I could've hurt you to escape and help my friends who needed me! I could've done everything differently! EVERYTHING!"

Scabior advanced on her more, and reached for her hand. He let her try and cringe away, then in one quick, fluid motion, grabbed her wrist.

Hermione pulled back, and when she realized there was no chance of pulling away, she lurched forward and started reigning half-hearted blows on his chest.

Scabior barely made anything of her screaming-turned mumbling out other than 'your fault' and 'my stupidity.' To his credit, the Snatcher just stood and took the blows. When Hermione completely gave up and merely grabbed onto his jacket before sagging against him and to the ground slowly, Scabior knelt with her and put his arm around her. It had been what he had to do with his mother when his father… … … his father did _that. _He shook his head, trying to rid himself of that memory. This was different. It wasn't his mother who was having the breakdown- it was this beautiful girl, this brave, witty girl who shouldn't have ever had to go through what she had been through the last few years. He turned his attention to Smitt, who was looking at the pair with mixed sympathy and uneasiness. "Smitty, there's a farmhouse just up the hill. There should be a couple there- the Finnegans, I recall."

Hermione lifted her head. "Why're we here? For all we know Seamus is dead. They won't want to see me alive and well… for the most part."

"We're getting the time turner and we're gonna fix it and fix this."

Hermione pushed away from him. "…Why?"

"I told you. I don' like seein' you lookin' like that. And there's the fact if that happened…" He pointed at the Dark Mark. "I didn't get paid, so I'm fixin' this. You don't want to come, that's fine with me. You slow us down."

Smitt cut in. "Well, me getting massacred back there was really what slowed-"

"Smitty!" Scabior warned.

Smitt put his hands up, then sent an apologetic look at Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, then sighed. "No. At this rate… everyone's gone… the boys… they might've… they needed me, and I wasn't there." She glanced at her shoulder when Smitt put his hand there, and then looked at Scabior. "Lead the way."

Scabior studied her more, then nodded and headed towards the house. Once they reached the front door, he waited for the others. He knocked on the door and waited once again. What he didn't expect was to get punched in the face.

John Finnegan, the dealer of the punch, stepped out, glaring at the Snatcher. He looked at Hermione. "His name isn't Max, I'm fairly sure you know that, he's not a nice man, pretty sure you knew that too, and now you've brought a new stranger into our home when our son just got back, beaten and bloody. You have a few minutes to explain yourself, or you're gone, Miss. Granger. Now, I haven't seen this other one's _wanted poster_, so I'm giving him leeway for now…" He looked at Scabior, who was rubbing his jaw, trying to rid the pain. "As for you…" He raised his wand. "_Incarcerous_!"

With a yelp that he would deny until the end of time, Scabior fell to the ground after ropes shot from the wand and wrapped themselves around him.

John turned his attention back to the other two. "Inside. Now." He ordered.

Hermione glanced back at Smitt before leading the way inside.

John watched them, focusing more on Smitt before slamming the door shut, nearly slamming it on Scabior's head had the man not ducked. She looked around frantically afterwards. He had just said Seamus was back, so where was he? He could've held all the answers. Sure enough, Seamus came into view after descending one of the staircases. "SEAMUS! Thank God!" She threw herself at him, pulling him into a hug.

"Hermione! I thought you…" Seamus returned the hug, but it slackened at the last part of his comment.

"I'm fine… these two… they've… … they've actually taken good care of me. Listen, Seamus… Harry, Ron, are they…?"

Seamus' small smile faded. "Don't know. Last I saw them, they ran off last night… I got attacked, Lupin found me and got me home. Said something about the Dark Mark over Hogwarts… have you been there? Is it true?"

Hermione nodded, then hesitated. "I've been… it's complicated, Seamus. I just saw it… I don't know much else."

Seamus offered another half-hearted smile and nodded himself.

John cleared his throat. "Alright, my turn. Who's this?"

"Can I answer, or are you only going to take hers?" Smitt asked.

John studied him. "Go, and she can confirm it."

Smitt sighed. "Thank you. My name is Marcus Smitt. Was I ever one of his people?" He nodded towards the front door, where Scabior was heard cursing. "Yes, but… call it cliché all you want, a case went… interesting, I had a change of heart, I haven't been a Snatcher for many years. He's still a friend though. Thing is, these two got caught up in some trouble, I found 'em, I got caught up in some trouble, I went to them, I've been travelling with them since. I'm not a Death Eater- never have been, never will be. Hermione's a good kid, and I've looked after her this whole time."

John looked at Hermione, and the girl nodded. "He's right- every word. I believe him, and he has protected me. I doubt you'll believe me but he hasn't threatened me to agree with his story or anything. He's a good man, really. Please believe me…. Us. If you don't want to believe him out there, fine, but you can take us at our word. We wouldn't have come back if it wasn't… necessary." She replied.

John frowned. "… Why is it necessary to come back? The time turner?"

Hermione nodded.

John scoffed. "It's broken. How do you expect to go and fix it? Do you expect to fix it, then change what's happened or something? I hate to say it, but that doesn't seem likely."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, we intend to fix it and go back and see if we can change things. Is it likely? You. Bet. Your. Ass." She snarled, and the Finnegans, as well as Smitt, looked surprised at her choice of language. "Harry and Ron would be lost without me, and I'm pretty sure that's part of why… this happened. I can't just… leave them like I did, despite not having a choice." She continued, then frowned even more deeply. "The way I see it, you can help us and be part of avoiding this outcome, or you can just hand back the time turner, and we'll be on our way alone."

John studied her, then noticed her fists were clenched tightly. He had never seen or heard of the girl in front of him showing that much… stubbornness- so much spirit. He looked at Smitt, who merely swallowed in anticipation, before looking back at the girl. "Tell me what we can do to help."


	12. Did I Do the Wrong Thing?

Scabior sighed and glanced up. "You know, I could've done away with all this. I could've minded my business, let the girl skip into the sunset with Potter and the Ginger, and I could've let Smitty die all those times… coulda just stayed in the woods and done my job and not gotten involved in this." He mused. "But no. Smitty had to drag me into this, preaching all the bloody way, and now I'm stuck. Literally." He shook his head, then made eye contact with his only audience member- the horse. "How did I ever let this happen, really?" He asked it. He waited for a response, and when the horse merely neighed and attempted to turn the red streak in Scabior's hair its meal, Scabior pushed it away. It was quite the accomplishment if he did say so himself, being that his right arm was the only thing he had managed to unbind in a half hour.

The horse, however, came back again, and when Scabior pushed its nose away, it neighed in protest and sideswiped the man's arm with its hoof.

Scabior growled, then stopped. "Wait a second… that's…" He rolled his eyes. There was no way that connection was real. "Leave me alone, Fleabag." He ordered, then rolled his eyes again. "And now I'm talking to a bloody horse. I've completely lost it, this time." He tried to roll himself over to stand, but he only succeeded in rolling- right down the three steps that led away from the front door. He groaned, rolled again, and stared back up at the sky. He was done trying now. Smitt would come rescue him any second now. Any second…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Finnigan home, Hermione, Seamus and Smitt were all trying their luck with various spells, trying to fix the time turner. Seamus hadn't gotten many details, but being that Hermione was the only friend he had who he knew was still alive, he was willing to go on faith. If she needed help, he would supply it.

It was Smitt's turn to try something, so he took the time turner in one hand, and his wand in the other. "Erecto. Incendio." He tried to enlarge the object to see if he could melt and manipulate the metal. In turn, it only swelled slightly in size, and simply burned Smitt's hand instead of the metal. The ex-snatcher let out a hiss of pain and dropped it to the ground, cooling it with a muttered 'Aguamenti.' He sighed, trying not to let Hermione see the defeated look. "What haven't we tried?"

Hermione, who looked like she was on the verge of tears once more, raised her wand. "Descendo!" Nothing. "Imperio… fix yourself, something!" Still nothing. She let out a growl, and Smitt didn't l miss the mixed anger and near madness in her eyes when she called, "Expulso!" The trinket still didn't budge or anything. The girl shrieked, tossed her wand down and practically charged at the time turner before proceeding to stomp on it a couple of times. It still didn't budge. Hermione would have taken a rock to it, had Smitt not stepped in, grabbed Hermione around the waist and dragged her off. Seamus merely watched them before starting a few tries on his own.

By the time Hermione and Smitt had made it to the tree a few feet away, Hermione was in tears again, but there was a look of fury on her face.

Smitt made a disapproving face and cupped her face in his hands. "Hermione, damn it, look at me. Look me in the eye. Right now."

Hermione fought for a few seconds, but finally looked at him.

Smitt moved his hands down to her shoulders. "Listen to me. I know that look. Hell, I've had it, and our common acquaintance Mr. Smells-Like-Wet-Dog on the other side of the house still has it daily. Don't you dare let that anger take you over- you most of all. Some of your friends may still be alive. They won't want to see their friend gone… vengeful. Don't let it control you. Once it does, it never stops… I was lucky I was able to… get rid of it. It was a long, painful journey doing it though. Way too rough, even for me. You're a smart girl- a smart, loyal, kind girl. That anger will rip you limb from limb. I don't want to see that happen to the girl who reminds me so much of my daughter, and I'm sure your friends wouldn't, either. You listen to me. Calm down, just… we'll figure it out."

"How?" The anger was almost instantaneously gone from the girl's face, but replaced by pain and sadness- so much pain.

Smitt moved his hands again, this time taking hers in his own. "I don't know, but we will." He leaned down. "Hermione, do you trust me?"

Hermione hesitated again, then nodded.

Smitt nodded back. "I swear to you, we'll fix this. All three of us, even if it's just you and I who are more determined or able to do it, with our other guy's predicament." He offered a weak, hopeful smile, and when Hermione cracked a smile of her own, his smile turned genuine. He leaned down further and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. "I promise, no resting until we get at least a lead." He started to lead her back when there was an explosion right where Seamus was. Smitt flinched and stepped in front of Hermione, fearing it was Voldemort, and the Dark Lord wasn't done with Potter's friends. However, that wasn't the case.

Seamus hadn't moved, with the exception of his wand was pointing up now. Hermione was no stranger to the sight to be seen- there was soot on the boy's face, and his hair was singed in front.

Smitt hurried over. "What happened? Are you okay? What spell was that?"

Seamus stared at the now-smoking time turner, blinked, then looked at Smitt. "… I have no idea…"

Smitt looked from the boy to the time turner and frowned. "Hold on a sec…" He knelt down.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Did it work?"

Smitt studied the time turner, frowning when he noticed something. Had it been any other situation, his inner Tolkien fan would've enjoyed the irony, but there was no time for that. "No, but… there's something written on the inside here… the words are… kinda… glowing I guess. Whatever you did, kid. It worked." He leaned over and studied the writing- or rather, name. He scowled. "No way…"

"No way what?" The other two asked.

"I'm gonna kill him. I'm going to kill him!" Smitt snapped, rising to his feet and starting to pace.

Hermione swallowed hard. Now she saw added meaning to his speech only a minute before. "Smitt, what's going on? Who do you need to kill?"

Smitt looked at her and almost tripped over his own feet. Like he had with her moments before, Hermione noticed a complete change of emotion in his eyes. Smitt straightened out. "… One of Scabior and my old contacts. He makes you think he's legit- he'll give or sell you something, it works, then kaput. It'll stop randomly at the worst times." He looked Hermione in the eye. "I'm guessing that's what happened with you two."

"Dead on, actually." Hermione replied.

Seamus frowned. "Wait, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Seamus. Just leave it." Hermione waved him off.

"But-"

"Seamus, please." Hermione frowned at him.

Seamus pouted, but backed off.

Smitt picked up the time turner, tossed it up a couple of inches, caught it, and put it in his pocket. "Scabior's gonna love this one…"

Hermione blinked. "Why?"

"Because the asshole I'm referring to is his half-brother on his dad's side. You know Bellatrix's whole family thing? Yeah, his is worse. Now I gotta go break the news that one of them is the reason you guys are in this mess. Hermione, I need to borrow you." He reached for her hand.

Hermione let him take it, but tilted her head. "Why's that?"

"Because he likes you, and if I use you as a shield, maybe he'll reconsider his usual policy of punching or hexing the messenger."

"That's comforting." Hermione sighed, letting him pull her towards the front of the property all the same.

"Wasn't comforting you. I was warning you."

"That didn't help…"

"Wasn't meant to, either."

* * *

Sure enough, Scabior was about as far from pleased to hear the news as possible. Smitt had barely finished getting him untied before he was on his feet, screaming about the development. Hermione had never seen a man go so red-faced from screaming 'What' in her life. Like Smitt had, Scabior started pacing, perhaps to get rid of the excess anger than the mere thought of his half-brother produced. "You're sure?" He asked.

Smitt held up the time turner, where the writing inside was finally starting to fade. "P.A.C… Peregrin Adolpho Crouch. Right there."

Hermione frowned. "Crouch? As in Bartemius Crouch?'

Even Seamus perked up at the name.

Scabior smirked. "My bastard father, same deal with my brother. Dear old Barty_ got around_, and now his kids have to pay the price- the kids he ignored, anyway. Junior's an ass, but at least he calls us family."

Hermione hesitated, completely stunned at the news of his family. Then again, after encountering Barty Junior, she wasn't surprised- about them being related, anyway. "Hold on… Junior is alive?"

Scabior shrugged. "Last I 'eard he was on his way to get kissed when the crazy bitch came in and saved his ass, so she could get a 'return favor.' Three guesses how that turned out. He's been underground since."

Hermione shook her head. Now they had that to worry about, too. She would've added 'could this get any worse?' but she knew that was just asking for it. "So… where are we headed, then?"

Smitt shook his head. "You're not going anywhere. We're going to Peregrin's latest hideout." Smitt replied.

Hermione scoffed. "You two aren't going anywhere without me."

"Yes we are." Smitt replied. "Hermione, I trust you've either been to or heard about Knockturn Alley in your travels- where Peregrin is… is much, much worse. Spies, Death Eaters…. Murderers, rapists, they're all there. Knockturn Alley is… a day old kitten compared to the hungry mountain lion this place is. It's no place for you- for anyone."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "But-"

"No buts," Smitt countered. "I have no problem adding 'young lady' to that, either."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "Fine, then. How do I know you two got in and out in one piece?"

"We'll find you," Scabior replied. "We are snatchers, after all. Now, you, Irish Kid…"

"Seamus," Seamus corrected him.

"Whatever. Your parents have any floo powder inside?"

"Course we do." Seamus nodded.

"Show us. Hermione, stay put." Scabior ordered.

Seamus looked at his friend before nodding and motioning for the men to follow.

Hermione stayed for a seconds, watching them head for the door. Once they made it inside, she shook her head. "Like Hell!" She headed for the door, ducking by the window beside it when she made it. She muttered an amplifying spell so she heard the voices inside, and settled down. Smitt and Scabior were inside, explaining that they had to leave with the turner. John and Jeannie were both hesitant about letting them go without her. After Smitt explained the danger, they seemed more open to the idea. Hermione leaned in closer as John and Smitt started up the fire. Any minute now. She managed to make out 'Firestone Lane' before a section of the room that was visible had a green glow, then nothing. The witch waited a few moments before going in. "I need to join them."

John frowned. "Hermione, your… the blonde one said that wasn't a good idea."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They're going to get themselves killed twice as fast if they don't have this." She took a small notebook she had in her jacket, from writing ideas on where the Horcruxes could be. She hoped the Finnegans fell for the idea it was more than that.

Seamus' parents both gawked, then looked at each other.

Hermione swallowed hard, then sighed. She was done being left in the dark, or assumed to be some poor damsel in distress, or useless for adventure since knowledge was her thing. She saw the jar of floo powder on the mantle, went over to it, and ducked into the fireplace.

"Hermione!" Jeannie warned.

"It'll be fine. I'll make contact with you once everything's set!" Hermione replied, before dropping the powder and calling out, "Firestone Lane."

The flames went green and engulfed her, and within seconds, she was in a new place. She stepped away from the unknown fireplace, noticing it was an odd place for one- the middle of a street. The area was curious- it was almost a perfect mix between Hogsmeade and Knockturn Alley. She squared her shoulders and looked around, avoiding the looks of various passersby. She squinted, and then just made out red plaid- the same plaid that Smitt's jacket was made of, disappear into one of the buildings- a pub, by the looks of it. She waited a few more seconds before heading after the duo.


	13. Falling Apart

**A/N: Smitt heavy chapter ahead. Scabmione will be super-di-dooper heavy in the next one. Don't you worry.**

* * *

Scabior and Smitt had just made it inside the small, dirty pub before they were stopped. The man who intercepted them was just shorter than the pair. He was clad in a rather odd, hideous looking gold and black hound's-tooth suit, and topped off the ridiculous look with a brown bowler hat. A few strands of greying brown hair stuck out from under the hat. "Well well, if it isn't Ratty and his lumberjack lapdog."

"Like we haven't heard that before…" Smitt muttered.

Scabior smirked at his friend's comment, then turned his attention back to the other man. "Where is he, Otto?"

The man, Otto, frowned. "I ain't the foggiest who you're talking about."

Scabior growled, then grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and slammed him against the door. A few patrons looked up for a moment before going about their original business. "You know bloody well who I mean, Otto. You of all people should remember I don't play nice with people who toy with me."

Otto rolled his eyes, then snaked one arm up to pull back his left lapel more, showing a long scar running down that side of his torso. "Yeah, I do. Paws off the merchandise. I'll take you to him."

"You better," Scabior replied, letting the man go.

Otto shrugged into his suit and fiddled with it to get sorted again. "Right this way, not-so-gentleman."

Scabior shoved Otto forward, and Otto grunted in protest before continuing on his way. He led the duo into a back room, then down a small hallway that led to another one. The room they ended up in was akin to a modern muggle bar. There were three people in the room. Scabior recognized two of them- two of three of his half brothers- Peregrin and Barty Junior. The snatcher figured the third man was just hired muscle, as was Otto. Smitt, on the other hand, recognized the third. It was true that the man, Havlong, was hired muscle- but this hired muscle had a love of alcohol, money and sadism that didn't quit.

Upon seeing his brother, Peregrin smiled and tossed his arms out. "Scabbie! Smitty! Alas, you come to visit!"

Barty turned on his stool, did his trademark half smile and tapped two fingers to his forehead in salute. "Scabs,"

"Shut it, the both of yas. I'm here on business." Scabior snapped. He went over to the stool between Barty and Havlong. "Turns out you put me in a rather bad spot, Per. I'm here to remedy that situation."

HP HP HP HP HP

Hermione didn't know how, but she managed to make her way into the pub without getting intercepted like the men had. She decided to keep a low profile as much as she could, so she settled for ducking into one corner and settling down. She waited for any sign of her companions, completely unaware of the set of feminine eyes on her. She did manage to see two men looking at her, so she merely turned her head, and continued waited with baited breath.

HP HP HP HP HP

Peregrin smirked and shrugged. "And how have I inconvenienced my dear big brother this time?" He leaned forward on the table.

"You sold some rat bastard a time turner rigged to break and not be repaired. That put quite a damper on my companion's and my plan."

The guard to Smitt's left laughed. "Companion? Is that what you two lovebirds call each other now?"

Without so much as flinching or looking at him, Smitt reached over, grabbed the back of the guard's head and slammed it hard against the edge of the counter. He watched the guard fall unconscious to the floor in a heap. "He wasn't referring to me, Jackass." He muttered.

Peregrin grinned at him, and Smitt finally saw the family resemblance- the madness in the smirk was proof enough. Barty joined in with his own laughter a moment later. "Not bad, Smitty. I've missed having your muscle around."

Smitt nodded at Scabior. "He paid better."

Peregrin turned to Scabior again. "So, if it's not Smitty here, then who's your other friend?"

"No one of importance to you, Per." Scabior replied

"He means his latest girl who's in the corner of the pub here."

Both Scabior and Smitt tensed when they heard Adele's voice, both because they didn't expect it, as well as they were worried that Hermione had followed them. Sure enough, the woman strolled further into the room. She went over to Peregrin and ran one of her hands up his chest. She linked her fingers and rested them on his shoulder. She leaned into him, and smiled at the other men. "I've missed you two. You ran off after our little fight back at camp." She replied, then nuzzled Peregrin's neck.

Peregrin looked at his older brother and winked. "See what not paying attention to your woman gets you, Scabbie?"

Scabior shrugged. "What's it matter? She's jus' a whore."

Adele gasped and went to slap him, but Peregrin stopped her. Barty let out another near maniacal giggle. "Not the time, luv. Now, what's this time turner business?"

"We want the real thing and not one of your tricks." Scabior replied.

Peregrin paused, considering. "Give me the fake one back, and being that I don't want any more drama between us, I'll give you the real thing."

Smitt removed the broken one from his pocket and slammed it down on the table, startling Barty. The blonde man offered a fake apologetic smile before sliding it over to the conman.

The man took it and smiled. He held it up to the dim light, murmured something, and the glowing letters from before appeared. "Right, Otto, you know what to do." He looked at his right hand man, who nodded and slipped out of the room.

Taking advantage of the others watching Otto, Scabior leaned over to Smitt. "If Adele was tellin' the truth about…" He murmured himself.

"On it," Smitt slid off his seat and left the room, making quick work of blending in with the crowd. He looked around, trying to look for the youngest member of the trio. He made a point of noticing that the place barely had windows. That prevented another exit like the one from last time he was in a bar if he had to do theatrics. At least that comforted him some. "Penelope!" He called. He looked around, then spotted her in the corner. The problem was that she saw him too, and bolted for the door. "Her- Penelope!" He ran after her and out of the pub, barely aware that Scabior took to following him a few moments later.

Scabior grabbed his shoulder and pointed right. "You go that way, I'll go left, meet at the clocktower over there. If she's not around, we'll go back."

Smitt barely managed to nod in acknowledgement before he bolted to the right. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to smack the girl or smack anyone who would interfere with her. He had warned her not to follow. Now there were about ten dozen kinds of tortured, evil souls in the small town alone, and she was bound to get confronted by one of them. Hell, for all he knew Scabior could just squeeze back into what seemed to be his until-recently dark, unstable ways and mess with the girl. There was no way he was going to let that happen. "PENELOPE!" He barked, then froze when he saw golden hair. His relief was short lived when he realized it was too light to be Hermione's. It was curly, bushy, and light blonde. It was Adele's. Now she was messing with them, and they had to deal with that, too. Fantastic. He continued his hunt, until two people he vaguely remembered cut him off.

"Got a lost new girl, Ole Smitty? We'll help."

"Shut it. Not in the mood," Smitt snapped, trying to push passed them.

"Oh, you're gonna have to be. You still owe us some money."

Smitt rolled his eyes. Well now, that put a wrench in the works, didn't it? Scabior would have to deal with being alone for a while. "Fine," He shouldered off his jacket, secretely pushing his wand into the sleeve of the shirt under it. This would at least clear the path and show surrounding people that he wasn't too be trifled with. "… Who gets their ass handed to them first, huh?"

Meanwhile, Scabior wasn't having much different luck. He had already been stopped twice. The first man who had stopped him for 'stealing his wife' had been disbanded easily. All Scabior had to do was elbow him in the face, which earned the man a broken nose. The second got a bit punch happy, so Scabior gave up after getting a kidney shot and Crucioed the man. Now there was a man about a foot taller and two feet wider than the snatcher. He was in no mood to so much as see where that fight was headed, so he stunned the giant and went on his way. "Penelope? He gave me the right one, let's go!" He called, hoping that would give her hope and she would come out of hiding. Still no luck. For some reason unknown to him, his stomach tightened at the mere possibility something bad had happened to her. He continued on, trying to get inside the girl's head to see where she might've gone.

A couple of blocks away from both of the men, Hermione was ducking under the window of a shop. She hadn't meant to leave the men- really, she hadn't. She had just thought she had seen something that didn't belong. Sure enough, she had been right. Now she was just trying to get to the bottom of it. She had seen Carter, of all people, walking down the street with none other than Yaxely. They were talking about Harry, and that didn't set at all well with the girl. However, now that they were in a neighboring pub from the one they had just been in, Hermione realized Carter sounded drunk. She wondered if it was his own doing, or Yaxely's. She scooted closer to the open window, trying to hear since the men were sitting at the table next to it.

"I'm telling you, every time I tried to get them to you, something went –hic- wrong. I had the perfect opportunity to give you Lupin, then that bloody useless snatcher got himself caught and the werewolf put his guard up. He's been on edge since, ever since Granger disappeared."

"Then find the bitch, play nice, bring her back to your camp, then bring me both of them! The Dark Lord wants important prisoners, and those two are your second and third best chances!"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Was Carter a spy all along, or was Yaxely just threatening him to get information? For some reason, her mind was telling her it was the former. The fact that it was her name that came up along with 'prisoner' and 'Dark Lord' didn't help that any.

"I'll have them, I swear."

Hermione could almost_ feel_ how drunk Carter was, from hearing him roll the 'r' alone. She folded in on herself more when she heard one of them rise from their seats. Apparently, it was Yaxely, because he seemed further away.

"You better, Raoul, or so help you, I will not hesistate to give you up to the Dark Lord."

She jumped and tried to cover herself when she heard the familiar sound of apparating. Shouts were heard inside, and she was barely aware of the black pillar of smoke that burst from the ceiling before it quieted back down. She rose to her feet and turned, frantic to get out before she was spotted. Yaxely could've seen her and was just saving her for later, for all she knew. All bets were off when someone grabbed her should and shoved her against the wall of the pub. She expected Scabior or Smitt to be on the other end of the arm. It didn't work out that way. It was Carter. She tried not to let out a squeak of alarm. Her panic set in when he dragged her off into the shed in the corner of the lot. There was no way this was going to end well for her. She turned to call for help, praying Smitt was at least partially wrong. However, he clapped a hand over her mouth. No, there was no way this was ending well. She fought against him, already flashing back to her first experience in that position with him. She grunted when he shoved her against the interior wall.

"So here you are, Granger. Where have you been all this time? Lupin's worried. You shouldn't have left us."

"And you shouldn't have been reporting to Death Eaters!" Hermione snapped.

"It's a different time now, Granger. Every man for himself out there. No Order, no loyalties, it's dog eat, dog world now."

Hermione scowled. "We trusted you!"

"You're not too used to it by now?" Carter sneered. He looked her up and down, and Hermione had a feeling the situation was akin to the first time she had encountered Scabior face to face- when he was aware of it, anyway.

"You're some sort of beautiful, you know."

Hermione tried not to look too panicked. No, now it was worse than Scabior. Sure, there was no doubt in her mind that there was… temporary madness with that situation, but… there was complete madness, with drunkenness on top of that on this one. She whimpered and tried to kick at Carter when she felt his hand trail down to her knee.

He grinned and pressed further against her. "Ah, you fight more than I thought you did. That's new."

Hermione wasn't at all surprised to feel a certain appendage against her and she thrashed harder.

Carter only laughed again, hiccupping in the process. "Oh, you mean Weasley, Lupin or that Snatcher haven't gotten their hands on you? Well, let's hope that I can amount to what they could've been. Might be a bit… sloppy, with the drinks in me. Yaxely won't mind if I have a bit of fun with the Mudblood that's gonna get used either way…" His free hand travelled to her chest.

Hermione thrashed again, glancing out the small window that was in the corner. She could've sworn that she saw two familiar, plaid clad people in the near distance. She jumped at the possibility. "MARCUS! SCABIOR!" She yelped when he tore her shirt and she scrambled to cover herself. His other hand skimmed up her thigh. Right when it was about to make contact where her thighs met, there was the sound of wood cracking, then a dead silence. Another couple of moments later, Carter was yanked backward. Hermione hit the wall hard and scrambled as far back as she could. She barely was able to process Smitt literally throwing Carter to the other side of the shack before proceeding to pummel the man. The girl wasn't aware of Scabior staring out her. Hermione flinched, hearing what sounded like bone cracking, and Carter suddenly went limp under Smitt.

Smitt turned around when he finally seemed to realize he was the only one delving out Hermione's defense. He saw Scabior staring at Hermione and tried not to restart the pounding on his friend. He knew that look. He had seen it during his first experience with his friend and Hermione. It was dark, and it was usually the prelude to what they had just walked in on. "Scabior!" He barked.

"I'm fine. Take her. O'Ralley's is open. Go," Scabior ordered, finally ripping his gaze from the girl.

Smitt growled, then knelt by Hermione. "Hermione, come on. We have to go. Can you… can you hear me? Can you walk?"

Hermione looked at him, then whimpered before looking back at the ground.

Smitt sighed and muttered an apology before pulling her to her feet. He took off his jacket that he had put back on after his fight and put it over her shoulders, trying to cover her as much as possible. He started guiding her out the door, keeping as much distance as possible. He could barely imagine what the girl must've been thinking, both during what they had walked in on and after. He was pretty sure she was probably thinking of what could've happened had they not interfered, either. He led her halfways down the block and flinched, hearing Scabior suddenly call out the Killing Curse. The shed was illuminated with green light a moment later, and then it went quiet and dark over there. He turned back to Hermione and guided her into the inn at the corner of the street. He led her up the stairs and Into one of the empty rooms. He sat her down on the bed, but didn't sit with her. "Hermione, you're okay. If you need anything, we're right next door. Do you understand?"

Hermione hesitated, then nodded slowly.

Smitt smiled weakly. He wanted nothing more than to hug the girl and promise that what had almost happened would never happen again, but he knew it would not end well. He made quick work of exiting the room and going next door. He sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair before running them down his face. Now what? The turn of events delayed whatever needed to be done, not that he could blame the girl. He suddenly remembered the look on Scabior's face when he saw the girl so vulnerable. What the Hell was that? He thought the whole situation was changing him, not keeping him right where he was as far as morality. He wanted to throttle the man. As if on cue, Scabior entered the room a moment later. "… You took care of that horribly." He announced.

Scabior scowled. "It's better to kill a traitor then let them live to squeal again."

"You just…" Smitt began, then scoffed. "As if she didn't go through enough just now, you killed a person in earshot after that? You, someone she's travelling with, killed someone within feet of her."

"Well, I'm not the one who nearly raped her, was I?" Scabior snapped.

"No, but you wanted to be, didn't you?" Smitt shot back.

Scabior scowled. "What's it matter?"

"It matters because she doesn't need you giving her that look when that just happened!"

On the other side of the wall, Hermione was listening to the whole thing. Smitt was right with each point. She was still reeling from all of the events. She had curled into a ball and started full on sobbing when Smitt had left the room. It was all too much. She heard the next room's door slam.

Smitt's voice carried into the hallway a moment later. "I'll be back in the morning. If I find out you did anything to her, I swear to God, I will kill you."

Hermione whimpered again. She didn't like that at all. Smitt was supposed to be a gentle… semi- giant. He was supposed to be the kind one, not the tough, deadly one. However, she heard him stop storming down the hallway in front of her room, before continuing down the hall, then the stairs. She started crying again. Where was he going? Why was he leaving her? It was almost as bad as Ron leaving her and Harry. Her world had gone to Hell again, and this trip was supposed to make things look up. She didn't even have the faith to wonder what would come next.


	14. Put Your Hands All Over Me

**A/N: (deep breath) … Ha. Um, well, here's where Scabmione finally get somewhere, but… I kind of massacre the chapter by making it really cracky. I played with Scabior's sanity a little too much to the point where I even reference Puppet Pals a little and… yeah. It went downhill from there. I promise it'll be back to normal in the next chapter. You guys have kept up with me this long, hopefully you'll keep it up. Enjoy. Chapter gets an M rating (Don't get excited, it's more for language than anything.)**

* * *

Scabior looked at Hermione's door. Well, more likely he stared it down as if their current situation was its fault. He didn't want to do this. Comforting someone was never his forte. But once again, the angel Smitt on his shoulder just wouldn't shut up, and this was the only way to shut him up so the devil version of himself on his other shoulder could get peace and quiet. He growled , listed all of the ways him going out on a limb could go wrong, then knocked on the door. "Hermione? You alright?" It was the most ridiculous question he could ask. He knew it.

"I'm fine. Go away."

Scabior pulled back and glared at the door this time. How could he say 'no' in the most defiant way possible? He kicked open the door without a second thought. That worked. He stepped in and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge sideways so she only saw half of his face until he turned to her. "You can stop lying, now." He wanted to scowl when he took in Smitt's jacket on her. Sure, everything under it was ripped to shreds, but that… _enhanced_ everything. He knew that he probably had a predatory look on his face, and figured the girl had seen it, judging by how she suddenly curled up into herself even more.

"Well how would you want to be handled if you were me? Hm? I bet you'd want to be left alone as much as I do right now." Hermione shot back. Her glare on him was hard, but at the same time, it had lost its power with the last few day's events. She knew it, and hated it. She tried to get the power behind it back. She relaxed, trying to look less intimidated. That failed miserably, as well.

Scabior wanted to point and laugh at the girl, but he knew she would've found a way to throttle him. He was in no mood to nearly die… again. "Sorry, no can do, Luv. Now that Smitty's run off in a huff, you're stuck with me, and I'm not leavin' you. Especially after _that_."

"Do you expect me to find that to be noble?" Hermione snapped.

"Not at all." Scabior shrugged again, then flinched when Angel Smitt was back on his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and was giving the snatcher his usual disapproving look, and the Devil him just smirked and waited for whatever came next. Despite trying to fight it, sympathy hit the man. "Look, I'm rubbish at this… comforting thing… well, your style comforting, anyway. Mine usually involves a quick encounter on one of these, if you catch my drift…" And then, the sarcasm was back, but Angel Smitt was still prevailing. "Not that I would mind that with you, Lovely." He winked. He didn't at all expect to have to duck a book flying at his head a moment later. It hit the wall hard, and Scabior turned to her, arching an eyebrow.

She was know kneeling on the bed, glaring at him, but he didn't miss the victorious little smile she had for a moment before she went back to looking miserable.

He pulled a face. "Aren't you supposed to be the mature one? I seem to recall Bellatrix complaining of your know-it-all attitude. Dunno why I don't seem to mind it. Probably because I'm surrounded by idiots constantly," He looked at the dresser a couple of feet from his left side and reached for the carving of a wooden head that was in the corner. He frowned at it and weighed it in his palm. "There are some strange people around these parts…" He mused.

"Like you?" Hermione asked.

"No, well, yes, but… I wouldn't go about collecting these now, would I?" He frowned at her when she arched an eyebrow. "Oh come on! There is absolutely nothing in this that I would remotely call a draw, Darling." He shrugged. "Besides, why bother giving these things second glances when I have you here, hm?" He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip.

The next few seconds however, took him completely by surprise. He half expected her to slap him. Hell, it would've been the icing on the cake. What could he say? He was around enough darkness that it was what got him going. However, once again, the witch caught him off guard when she lunged forward and kissed him, knocking the both of them clear off the bed, and his resulting flail sent them tumbling off the bed.

Hell, Hermione caught herself off guard. She was fully aware kissing the stranger who had no problem turning her, Ron and Harry in was a bad idea on so many levels. She knew he could've easily turned the tables with it and dominated her completely in every way possible. It was for that reason alone that he surprised her more than she surprised herself when he stopped flailing in order to get a grip on her shoulders, pry her off of him and disentangle himself from her.

"What the FUCK was that? What the FUCK? … FUCK! Stop spinnin' me about, woman! What the bloody Hell was that?" Scabior demanded. _And why the fuck did I stop that when she's been nothing but trouble and I damn well earned something and- shut the Hell up. No. Bloody Hell. What happened? You're an idiot and you ended something that could've ended with you getting shagged for the first time in too long. _The snatcher shook his head. Arguing with himself wasn't going to help this at all. He was barely aware of the fact that Hermione was actually replying until her voice went up a couple of octaves than what he was used to when she screamed.

"I don't bloody know! It's just…it's all too much, and you're the only one who's ever remotely called me beautiful or anything of that sort and meant it and continued to think that way, and I was confused and I was stupid and… and…. UGH!" She curled up and tucked her head to her knees again.

Scabior opened his mouth and promptly closed it, waving his hand at her. He gave up. He honestly did. Was it women? Was it hormones? Was it just her? Was it him? What. The. Hell. He turned on his heel. Now he knew how all of his marks felt in the past- even Hermione and her two boys. No good could come from that three second ordeal, he knew that much. He made for the door quickly, then right when he reached for the knob, guilt got to him again. He closed his fist and growled. He retrieved the time turner and tossed it to the edge of the bed. "Go 'fer it. I won't blame you. We'll catch up, I assure you." He turned and left without another word.

Hermione lifted her head to look at the time turner, then at his retreating back. She inhaled sharply, trying to contemplate her next move.

* * *

Scabior had made it back to the room by then. There was no sense in adding more awkwardness to it. Sure, he was only moving a room away, but it was still better than being three feet from her. He paced across the room, giving the lamp a shove for good measure. What the Hell was the girl doing to him? No one had ever affected him that way. He knew it could only mean trouble for him- for all of them. He leaned back and sat on the edge of the bed. He threaded his fingers together and tucking them under his chin, resting them on his thighs. How could something as simple as a kiss do that to him? He was acting like some lust-ridden teenager. It was ridiculous. He squared his shoulders_. Come off it, now. What? Afraid that you've gone soft? You have. No I haven't. Shut up. _He growled again, then leaned back and dragged himself back up the bed.

He made up his mind that he was going to sleep. It made his subconscious leave him alone, he didn't know when the next time he would be able to sleep was, and it spared him from Smitt's 'I'm-judging-you-and-making-sure-you-know-it' look when he got back. He managed to find a comfortable position and settled down. Naturally, there was a knock at the door. He arched an eyebrow but didn't open his eyes. He felt for his wand. Let whoever it was come in. If it wasn't one of his two, he'd just end them completely, just for disturbing the small amount of peace he had.

"…Scabior?"

Scabior flinched. Of course, it had to be Hermione after that. Why would he ever think any different? He wondered if this whole thing was even worth it- helping her, and trying to get to the end without getting himself killed. With his luck, he might as well just put his wand to his head, say 'Well, Avada Kedavra' and be done with it. Alas, for some reason, he felt he had something to live for- he didn't know what, but he did, so that ended that idea. "What?" He opened one eye.

Hermione looked down. "I know I'm the last one you want to see after… erm…. That, but… I just really don't want to be alone after… the thing before… that… and you're… I know you didn't like hearing it before, but… I know you more than anyone around here, and…"

Scabior opened both eyes now, and arched an eyebrow. He shoved his wand back into his jacket. Once again, his feelings decided to punch him in the gut, and felt guilty when the girl looked at him the way she was at that moment. "… Fine. Just stay as far from me as you can… … and if Smitty walks in and assumes the worst, you're explaining, and saving my arse. Understood?"

Hermione nodded, then joined him on the bed. To her word, she tried to lay out far from his as possible before curling up on her side.

Scabior squirmed further away, then tried to get to sleep himself. Naturally, it didn't work out well. His new position was quite uncomfortable.

Hermione, on the other hand, found sleep rather quickly after that. The snatcher heard her breathing slow after a few minutes and sighed in relief. It was over with, at least for now. Naturally, that didn't work at all. The fact that Hermione rolled over so she was pressed up against him didn't help either. When she just about nuzzled his chest, Scabior contemplated getting his wand and ending it all again.

This was not fair. At all. Why was he being the one tested in this? Why? He growled to himself, then when Hermione moved a certain way, he caught the scent of her hair and tried not to shudder. However, he wasn't so lucky with hiding it elsewhere. There was the motivation again. He sighed and tried to get comfortable, shifting once more. He settled for the least uncomfortable position and waited. Smitt should have returned by then. What was keeping him? He needed help- or he needed to be beaten senseless at this rate. It would be a nice reprieve. He waited, counting minutes, then hours. His eyes grew heavy, but that was about it.

When the door opened again, it was Smitt on the other side. He walked in, and took in the pair on the bed. He saw Scabior was still conscious and arched an eyebrow. Scabior counted down. Three, two… one, and there was the Disapproving Look of Death. "Trousers are still on, she's out cold, and the bed's intact. Nothing 'appened. Relax." He scolded his friend.

Smitt sighed after a moment. "I'm sorry. I was just… on edge before."

"We all are, mate." Scabior murmured.

Smitt crossed over to the stool in the corner and sat on it. "So what're we gonna do tomorrow? If we keep going from place to place, it's just wasting time."

"We'll use the time turner first thing in the morning." Scabior replied. "You can come with us?"

Smitt made a face. "If it's time travel, won't it be screwy if I come back with you?"

"What were you doing about a week from… where we were before? Listening to Adele bully you?" Scabior asked.

Smitt hesitated, then shrugged in agreement.

"Good. You're coming with us, then. We could use all the help we can get if it's only three that know the fate of the world if You-Know-'O succeeds." He looked down at Hermione. "For now, just let 'er sleep."


	15. Something's Got to Change

When Hermione woke the next day, she didn't at all expect to feel something warm, rough and solid against the top of her cheek . It felt nice compared to her last few sleeping arrangements. That was, until she recalled just what was under her. She felt someone- thought she was confident she knew who it was- playing with her hair, and she sat up.

Scabior raised his eyebrows and sat up. "Morning, Lovely. Sleep well?"

Hermione scowled, but to her surprise, it was mostly playful. "Shut up. Can we leave now? Has anything happened?"

"No. It's been pretty quiet. Smitt's outside. By some stretch of the imagination the horse we had found us."

Hermione frowned. "You're sure it's not a Death Eater who's an Animagi?"

"Well, being that Smitt went to tend to 'er alone and that would've given 'im or 'er opportunity and we haven't 'eard Smitty screaming bloody murder, I take that as a 'no.'" He replied, getting off the bed and taking a couple of steps away. "… Are you ready to go back?"

Hermione nodded without another thought.

Scabior hesitated. "… What if it ends the same way?"

Hermione looked at him in confusion. She would've never figured he would ask that. She swallowed hard when she recognized sympathy in his eyes. It was like a punch to the gut. How could he keep surprising her like that? Why had he suddenly become kind to her in the last few days when just about a week ago, he had backhanded her? She realized he was still waiting for an answer a moment later. "I'm willing to take that chance if I'm with them." She replied. When he merely nodded, she frowned. "Whose side are you on…?" She asked before she even realized she voiced the thought.

"My own. Come on, let's not waste time." He offered his gloved hand to her.

Hermione stared at it for a while, considering all the things that simple action was asking- what it was telling. She mentally shook her head. She was thinking too hard. She took his hand and let him pull her up and off the bed. She fished the time turner out of her pocket. "Look, about… that kiss…"

"In the past. Let's not worry about it." He let her get her bag, then her out of the room and down the stairs. They made it out of the inn and met up with Smitt outside. "We set to go?" The American asked, casting a worried glance at Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Let's get it over with."

Smitt smiled weakly, then looked at the horse and patted the animal on the nose. "Sorry you came this far, girl, but I doubt where we're going is any place for you, huh?"

The horse neighed and nudged his shoulder.

Smitt looked at it apologetically, then led the other two away.

Hermione huddled up to the men and tossed the trinket's chain around the three of them. "Four days, would you say? Gives us time to travel… no pun intended." She shrugged.

The men shrugged. "Your guess is as good as ours." Smitt replied.

Hermione nodded, then stared at the time turner. She took a deep breath, thought of the best estimate of time to be travelled, and spun the trinket. Time blurred around them. Figures whizzed by. Dark clouds passed overhead. The grass under them came back to life. Everything slowed down after a few moments, and before they knew it, everything had stopped. Hermione looked around once more before she pulled the chain up and over them. "We're here. The trick is going back to Hogwarts without being noticed."

Scabior looked at Smitt, who shrugged. He nodded. "About that, Luv…"

Hermione frowned, unsure whether to be fearful or just curious. "What?"

Scabior shrugged. "Smitty and I were talking. We have appearances to keep up, now that our little adventure's over. I have a side, he's got a side, you've got a side. Point is, I have to go back to Greyback and play the fool to come back. You have to find your mates. We have to go in two different directions, Beautiful."

Hermione frowned. "Oh… so this is… goodbye, then?"

Scabior shrugged. " 'Fraid so… for now, anyway. Might be fun, joinin' up again when our lives aren't in immediate danger."

Hermione stared at the men, and it suddenly hit her. By some stretch of the imagination, they had become her friends. Sure, at least one of the party should never have been given that label, but he surprised her, now. She let out a whimper before launching herself at Smitt first. "You be careful, and keep Scabior out of trouble. We both know he's gonna look for it. If I hear anything about any Angies, or Smitts, or anything, I will find a way for you to find out. I promise."

Smitt sighed and kissed her on the cheek, returning the hug. "Thank you, Kiddo. And you try to stay out of trouble, too. Be careful."

"I will," Hermione replied. She moved to Scabior, blushed, and looked at the ground for a while, as did he.

Smitt looked around, coughed, and walked a few feet away, keeping his back to them. He wasn't a fool. Just because he didn't quite approve of whatever those two were didn't mean he was going to start up any complaints, least of all now.

"So…" Hermione began.

"So," Scabior nodded.

Hermione blinked a couple of times, then tossed her arms around his neck, knocking him off balance for the second time in twenty four hours. He was able to catch himself this time and returned the awkward hug to manage it. He didn't hesitate to take a whiff of her hair in the process. Who knew if he was going to survive the next few days to smell it again.

Hermione shook her head against his shoulder. "I know I really shouldn't be doing this and… after all you've done… what I'v e heard, what I've seen here… I don't care. Point is we're here now and you saved me way to many times to count now and I can't thank you enough and… just be careful, okay? If you see Greyback just try to avoid the desire to get him back. Please. You might not want to hear it, but he is stronger and bigger than you and… if I lose you after all of this… the last half of this, anyway."

"Right, yeah, well… … I'm sorry… about the… first…." Scabior replied uneasily, using Smitt's excuse of coughing to try and ease the already sky-high awkwardness. "... This is yours, by the way." He squeezed one hand between them, retrieved her wand from his jacket, and stuck it into her pocket.

Hermione kissed his cheek and got off her tip-toes, backing up slowly. Had it been any other time, or if she had been an onlooker, she would've found it interesting that not one of them said goodbye.

The men regrouped, and with one final glance at the girl, apparated away.

Hermione stared at the now vacant spot before turning back in the direction they had come. She wondered how Hogwarts was faring at that moment in time. It was at least three days before the disaster they had walked into. She hoped Harry and Ron were there. It would make sense. Where else could they have gone? Harry wouldn't let the place go unprotected. She sighed and took her wand out. She certainly wasn't taking chances any day close to… that. She started to formulate a plan in her head. She just had to find a way to get into the Shrieking Shack unnoticed. She knew it was easier said than done.

By nightfall, Hermione was fighting the freezing cold weather. She had managed to get around Hogsmeade with little difficulty. She made it across the field, and into the building. Now the hardest part came. She weaved around the rotting wood, and found the hallway she needed to go down to reach the staircase. She sighed. She knew what was next. The Whomping Willow. She took a deep breath, backed up, and charged up the incline, not stopping when she reached the top. She kept running a few feet, then hesitated, realizing it was too busy. She turned her head, still not stopping, curious to see why. Most of it had been cut back. Other sections had been tied down. She turned back around and sped up. She could've sworn she saw a few Dementors in the air a couple of hundred feet away. She darted her way into the shadows and made it to the castle. McGonagall. I'll be safe with her. She murmured. She looked around, finding a large, fallen branch. She took it, then walked around, lining herself up where she knew the Headmaster's Tower was. She muttered 'Leviosa' and the branch rose. She tossed one leg over it, then let it carry her up. She reached the large office, then sighed in relief when the older woman was there. She sighed, then eased her way onto the roof. She knocked on the window. "Professor? Professor!" She hissed.

Minerva turned, alarmed, then gasped. She motioned for Hermione to move, then opened the windows. "Miss. Granger! What're you….? How? Come in!"

Hermione practically tossed herself into the room. "Professor, please tell me Harry and Ron are here."

Minerva gaped at her. "I-I-I- they were, but I don't know if they're here now. What are you doing apart from them?"

"Long story. Just… where could they be?" Hermione asked.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "The same place that you and a handful of others spent in your fifth year. Yes, I know about it. They could also be in your common room."

Hermione frowned. "You knew about…?"

"I know about a lot of things, Granger. Now go. You probably won't need spells to help cover you, bu tI'll do them all the same. Hurry, now. Go out the side door there, then through the hallway in back of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. Thank you!" She repeated, then tore out the door and in the direction her professor had instructed.


	16. In Misery

**A/N: Sorry about the giant wait. The whole book idea didn't work out well, and my friend who has the movie now won't tell me what happens after a certain point, so here's a very, very small 'hey look, I'm still alive' chapter. I may be going to a screening of Part 2 at a neighboring college tomorrow, though, so… we'll see.**

* * *

Scabior would deny the yelp of pain he let out when he stopped apparating as long as he lived. He dropped the last couple of feet to the ground and let out a growl of annoyance. He added another line under 'KILL GREYBACK' on his mental to-do list. He tried to push himself up, but the large thorn sticking out from his shoulder blade prevented him from going far. He eased himself back to the ground and waited.

Smitt dropped down next to him a moment later. He was the first to get to his feet. "Well, that could've gone way, way better." He mused, cracking his neck and wiping some of the excess blood he had acquired from the cut above his eyebrow. He took his wand out of his jacket pocket and inspected it for damage. Once he realized there was none, he healed the couple of gashes he had on his face and upper harms. He repaired his jacket sleeve, then turned to his companion. He hissed when he saw the thin metal spike sticking out of the Snatcher's back. "That's not good." He turned so he was leaning over his friend's back and raised his wand. He used his free hand to yank out the spike and pulled a face when Scabior yelled in pain. Smitt muttered a healing spell under his breath, and the wound sealed up.

Scabior growled again, then stumbled to his feet. "Well, it's not entirely my fault, is it? Greyback-"

"Reacted_ like he should've,_ being that you just waltzed out of the forest and over to him while giving him orders when we came back back _after you two parted ways_." Smitt insisted. "Come on, Man. That was damn idiotic."

"I was seein' where we got dropped back. Couldn't help the reception. You alright?"

"Well, he didn't have as much of a vendetta against me. A lot of sectumsempras came my way. Most missed. What about you anything bad?"

Scabior examined his arms again to examine any damage. "Think I lost the spike in my arm when you got us the Hell outta there." Scabior replied, he glanced to the side at his forearm, and sure enough, his jacket was punctured and the area was stained with a dark red substance. "Yeah…"

Smitt healed that wound. "… Any more?"

"No,"

"Good," Smitt punched him in the jaw before sprawling out next to where the Snatcher landed after the blow. "That's for almost getting me killed… … again."

Despite the punch, Scabior chuckled. "Remind me why I put up with you again?"

"Because I'm pretty and make good jokes."

"You're an idiot."

"Love you too, Danger Magnet."

* * *

To Hermione's relief, Minerva had kept her arrival on the down low, only trusting Neville with the information. The two friends had never been so happy to see each other. When Hermione asked about Ron and Harry, Neville had all but taken her arm off he took her hand and started dragging her towards Dumbledore's office so fast. They managed to get there unnoticed somehow, and when they were about to go in using one of the secret passages, Ron and Harry emerged from it. The girl wasted no time. She screamed her friends' names and ran over to them.

They barely had time to register it was her before she flung her arms around the pair.

Hermione pulled back after noticing both of their hugs in return seemed stiff and weak, all at once. She wiped the tears that she hadn't noticed had formed in her eyes away, then straightened out. "What's going on?" She asked, looking between them. She noticed Harry looked devastated, and like always, she couldn't quite read Ron.

"He's- Snape- he… he was protecting me all these years… he wasn't… … he loved my mum. He wasn't… my father was horrible to him, and…my mother wasn't, and… he… " He trailed off. "He's dead. Snape's dead…" he looked back at the boat house. "… We need to go. Now. I'll explain everything later" He replied. After a moment, he smiled weakly. "I don't know how you're back, but… it's good to see you're back… and okay."

"You too…" Hermione replied, taking in what she prayed was the biggest bit of information she needed to process that she had missed. She looked at Ron, who was still looking at her uneasily. "What is it, Ron?"

Neville shifted. "Guys, maybe this isn't the best time or place to be doing this."

"Isn't it a little convenient you're back now, unharmed after being gone for a while?" Ron demanded.

Hermione gawked at him.

Harry stepped between them, coming to her rescue. "Ron, it hasn't been that long. Just leave her. She's fine. She wouldn't do anything to harm us, even if she was being forced. Neville's right, let's go."

"How do we even know it's her?" Ron continued, practically ignoring her reply.

Hermione full on gasped then, and stepped forward. "How _dare_ you?"

Harry glanced at her, then back at Ron. "Was that enough of an answer for you? Come on, Ron, really!"

"No, it's not."

Hermione's jaw dropped even further. She clenched her jaw. "Ronald Weasley, if you have _any_ idea what I've been through these last few days-" She advanced on him, much like she did what seemed like ages ago, and Neville took it upon himself to hold her back.

"Enlighten us!" Ron snapped.

"Here we go…" Neville rolled his eyes.

"I was with Snatchers, are you happy? I was with snatchers who turned out to be good men who looked after me and gave a damn about me and didn't just care about themselves during this… disaster! That's already better than you've been doing lately!"

"What? If course I've cared about the both of you during this!" Ron tossed his arms out.

"If you did, you wouldn't have left us before!" Hermione snapped.

That got Ron quiet. Harry took him by the arm and dragged him back, motioning for Neville to take Hermione and follow him.

Hermione let him guide her halfheartedly, glaring at Ron the whole time. This was not at all the homecoming she had expected. At least Harry seemed genuinely happy that she had come back alright. She nearly stopped in her tracks. He hadn't had any reaction whatsoever when she had mentioned the Snatchers. She had just blurted it out and been focused on Ron's reaction. She hoped that wouldn't count against her in the long run. Then again, he was probably they type not to care, as long as she came back alright. He had said he trusted her, no matter what. She hoped that viewpoint stayed intact. She noticed Neville was looking back at her, saying something. "… What?"

"We're lagging behind… speed up a bit… and Snatchers? Really?"

"Some of them aren't as bad as they seem." Hermione replied simply, having no desire to go on, which would probably have a lecture. Her relief was already gone. She wanted to keep as much dignity intact as she could.


	17. Coming Back to Me

**Argh, sorry for the giant wait. I know I said the update would be soon, but life happened... again. Blah. Moving on. **

**Hhhh: Haha, thanks. I just took more liberties with the time turner laws. In the fic, thanks to time travel, Hermie was nowhere near Hogwarts when the Snape thing happened, so… yeah.**

**Also, I make a random Doctor Who reference in here. If you like Harry Potter, chances are you've seen or at least heard of Doctor Who, so it'll work. If you haven't , well, ignore Scabior's comment about The Doctor, and start watching. Don't even read this chapter until you've watched at least one episode.**

* * *

Smitt skidded to a halt when he and Scabior reached the clearing that marked the edges of Hogwarts' ground. Their plan was to get to the bridge, cross over, and survive, with Scabior killing Greyback somewhere in between. The man held his arm out to prevent Scabior from moving on. He spotted a gigantic army of people on one side of the bridge. "Something doesn't seem right, here…" He muttered, looking over the bridge.

"Hogwarts is on fire, the wizarding world is falling apart as we speak because of this, and you're worried… about the bridge?" Scabior asked.

Smitt sighed. "Our boys shouldn't- I was counting on… we need a new plan."

"Why? What's wrong?"

Smitt looked at him. "That's the most used entrance into the school. There's an army of our people- people batting against the school, there. You think the school would leave it unguarded?" He demanded.

"They're a tad preoccupied, don't you think?" Scabior demanded. A moment later, he ducked out of instinct when there was an explosion, and the bridge went up in flames. He scrambled back when a few shards of wood made it all the way down to them. The two looked on with heavy hearts as several bodies fell along with pieces of the bridge. Their loyalties were skewed as of late, but there were still men they called friends on that bridge who had just fallen. Scabior swallowed hard and dodged another piece of rubble before looking at the other man. "Well, now what? I highly suggest we just run for our lives at this rate."

Smitt glared at him. "You can, I'm not. Hell, you might not have had it, but I have good memories of this place. If it means helping keep Hogwarts standing, I'm definitely on their side, starting now." Smitt replied, jabbing his finger towards the castle.

"And how, exactly, do you expect to get in when the bridge is gone?" Scabior arched an eyebrow.

Smitt rolled his eyes. "I know another way in."

"Good, then let's get to it, shall we?" Scabior demanded.

Smitt frowned. "What, now you're all for coming with me?"

"We've been over this. Someone's got to watch over your arse. Now, time for you to lead and me to follow."

Smitt nodded quickly, then jerked his head to the right and took off in that direction. Scabior followed a moment later.

* * *

Scabior groaned when his boot slipped in something between a solid and a liquid. Being that Smitt had led him into a sewer, he didn't want to know what it was. He hoped it was some… wet, rat carcass, at the least. "… So, I take these are your old stomping grounds? No wonder you became one of us."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You get past this section, walk three segments right, and you have the best damn hangout spot a few unruly teens could ask for."

Scabior made a face. "You're aware that there was some legend about some… giant snake thing living down here, right?"

"That section is blocked off from this one. Why have that complicated, steep, underground one when you have…" Smitt jumped over one of the indents in the floor where water was flowing. He went over to a grate in the wall and felt around it until his finger reached a hidden grove. He nodded, grabbed the bar that was next to the groove and tugged. The grate swung open. Smitt pulled it open further, then nodded at Scabior to move down the tunnel it had opened. Scabior did, and Smitt went after him, shutting the grate behind them. He knelt down, took his wand out, and pointed it at the grate, muttering a quick incantation. He turned back, got up, and straightened his jacket. When he saw Scabior was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, he blinked innocently and smiled.

"You're the Doctor, aren't you?" Scabior asked.

Smitt beamed and patted Scabior's cheek as he passed him. "And just when I thought you had completely forgotten popular culture existed." He quipped before moving on.

The two eventually made it to a steep staircase."Not long now," He reported. He went to take another step when the wall beside him exploded, launching him against the opposite wall along with chunks of stone.

"Smitty!" Scabior barked, bolting over to him.

Smitt waved his hand dismissively. "'M' okay." He got up and shook the dust out of his hair. He opened his eyes just in time to see a jet of green light come out of nowhere, heading straight for him. It hit the wall about three inches from the blonde man's face. "…Guess it's _not_ not long now." He scrambled to his feet and managed to jump away when another stray jet of light- this time, red, came towards them. "Right. Out of the frying pan…" He started to walk towards the hole.

Scabior grabbed his arm. "Into the fire? Are you mad?"

Smitt frowned at him. "You know, Hermione could be out there, in danger."

Scabior's worried look dropped. "Right." He took his wand out and just about charged into the courtyard.

Smitt snorted, muttered "Sucker", and followed after, once again.

Within minutes, the pair of them had been completely absorbed in the battle. Scabior had lost count of the bodies and rubble alike he had to dodge. At that moment, he wasn't exactly sure what was worse- getting hit by a stray spell, since nothing seemed to be directed at him as of yet, or getting spotted by Greyback, who he had caught several glimpses of in the last minute. He and Smitt had been forced to split up a few minutes prior, due to a falling giant. For the first time in years, the man prayed- for his only true friend to come out of this alright. He turned sharply to avoid another newly-turned corpse and spotted a familiar face being backed into a corner by some Death Eater. It was the werewolf who had essentially saved his life, just before the whole misadventure with Hermione began. Lupin, was that his name? Yes. The werewolf and the Death Eater were trading killing, stunning, and general harming spells at each other, and doing a decent job of dodging each spell directed at them. After a few seconds, Scabior noticed the werewolf's speed was slowing. Needless to say, he was growing tied. While Scabior still didn't consider himself a moral man, he did believe in repaying debts- and last he checked, he was in Lupin's debt. He aimed his wand at the Death Eater, and without further thought, fired the Killing Curse at the Death Eater.

The man collapsed.

Remus stared at the man's body, then looked at his rescuer. He opened his mouth and narrowed his eyes in confusion when he recognized who it was.

Scabior smirked and tapped two fingers to his forehead in a salute. "Last I checked I owed you!" He called over the confusion.

Remus didn't wait around to respond. A stray spell nearly hit him, and he turned sharply to get behind cover.

Scabior followed suit in the other direction. What he didn't expect was to run right into Greyback. He barely knew what literally hit him before he found a hand closing around his throat- and lifting him up by it, no less. He kicked, trying to throw his weight enough to get free, to no avail.

"It's about time I can finish you properly." Greyback sneered. A moment later he threw Scabior to the ground as if he weighed nothing. Scabior kicked again, and it only managed to deter Greyback lunging at him slightly. Greyback still had him pinned to the ground a moment later. Scabior fought harder when Greyback bared his teeth, ready to bite him. A moment later, Greyback's head jerked away from Scabior. The snatcher turned his head to see what had stopped him. A chunk of stone no bigger than his first was a couple of feet away, and part of it had blood on it. _Greyback's blood_, the man realized. He turned his head in the direction the rock had come as best he could.

Smitt was standing a few feet away, under cover, but the fire to his left revealed him handling another stone the same size. He was glaring at Greyback. His eyes flicked to Scabior's for a second before they met a snarling Greyback's eyes.

The pinned man realized that Smitt wasn't as much saving him as offering a distraction. Enough to get his wand and end this. Sure enough, he felt Greyback's weight leave him, indicating he was ready to go and attack te ex-snatcher. Scabior inhaled sharply, grabbed his wand that had rolled a few inches away in the scramble, brought It up at an angle even he didn't think was possible, given the little space he had. "Avada Kedavra!" He hissed.

There was a blur of green light and Scabior had the brief thought that he could've died from a blast that close himself, but when the pain in his chest faded, he wasn't worried. Greyback had gone slack when the curse went through him, and collapsed right onto the snatcher. Scabior coughed. He realized the recoil from the spell didn't hurt as much as getting all of the giant, murderous bastard's weight fall on him. "Get 'im off me!" He snapped as Smitt hurried over.

"Working on it, Jackass..." Smitt muttered, kneeling at his side.

The two men managed to roll the dead werewolf off of him and got to their feet, scrambling for cover again. They noticed the battle had seemed to cease, even for the time being. People were piling into the Great Hall, from what they saw. The pair of them looked at each other and nodded, making for the room. Two sort of-kind of neutral parties would be at least ignored in the fray… they hoped.

* * *

Hermione let out a broken whimper as she just about collapsed on one of the benches in the large room. First, her heart had started to break when she heard Neville report that the bridge leading to the school had been taken down, and a bunch of Snatchers went with it. He had seemed to have forgotten Hermione mentioning her latest friends were among them. The mere thought of losing them like… that, after all that, was just heartbreaking. She couldn't deny it. She wanted to hate them, but feelings for Scabior did exist, which meant she lost the man she fancied- she wasn't sure it was love- and Smitt, poor Smitt might've died without having seen his daughter one last time- if she was alive herself.

It broke futher when she, Harry and Ron entered the room, and they all spotted the Weasley family nursing to each other's wounds- even Percy was in the small crowd. Fred and George both spotted Ron at the same time. "Ron! Ron's okay!" They reported.

Molly and Arthur both looked up, alarmed for a moment, and then beamed.

Ron made it his job to join his family within about five seconds.

Harry had wandered off somewhere. Hermione knew he felt he had a mission. She wanted to stop him, figuring he was probably suicidal at this rate, but at the same time, she wanted to trust him to do what he felt was right. She curled in on herself again and glanced around at the bodies. She spotted Tonks' body on the floor a few feet to her right and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep down the tears. She felt she had already shed as many as she was capable of. She failed to notice Minerva approaching two strangers to her eyes.

* * *

Scabior glanced up when an old woman was coming towards them. "Can't we have a moment…" He muttered to himself.

Minerva finally reached them. Her want was pointed squarely at them by the time she was about six feet from them. "I demand to know who you are at once! You have very unruly looks about you… at least one of you do, and the way you hold yourselves… snatchers, I presume. Snatchers are not welcome here."

Scabior put his hand up in defense, missing Smitt's resulting eyeroll. "Listen, Professor, we mean no harm. We all almost died, and I killed that bastard Greyback about five minutes ago, so I at least deserve two bloody minutes of peace to get my breath back!"

Hermione's head shot up. She knew that voice. She turned in the direction of her professor and couldn't help the relieved half-shriek, half laugh that left her. She sprang up to her feet and hurried over. "Professor!" She called. However, one name overpowered that one, and followed a couple of seconds later. "Scabior!"

Scabior's own head shot up at the voice, and the next thing he knew, his witch was just about hanging around his neck, having thrown herself at him. "Hermione!" He pulled her into a hug, considering not letting her go until everything was cleared up.

Minerva sputtered at the display of mismatched affection. Surprising herself, she looked at Smitt for support. "What is this…?"

Smitt closed his eyes and shook his head. "Hey, I'm not big on it either, but at this rate, just go with it." He turned his attention back to the rest of the Great Hall, surveying the damage that had been done with a heavy heart.

Minerva opened her mouth to reply, but stopped when Hermione let Scabior go and turned on her heel to face her professor, standing in front of her friends, almost protectively.

"Please, don't send them away. These are the men that helped me during my predicament I told you about. I might not even be alive right now if it wasn't for them. _Please." _Hermione insisted.

Minerva couldn't help but to have the image of a defiant, eleven –year-old Hermione replace the moment-long image of the eighteen-year-old one standing in front of her. She watched Hermione's hands drop to one of Scabior's, so they covered it completely. She looked at Scabior, and saw the man freeze as if registering that the younger woman was now holding his hand. She wasn't sure what to think when the man's eyes showed confusion that turned to relief, and then protectiveness. She was about to speak when a tiny whimper came from behind her. She turned to see a small blonde girl peeking out from behind a second year Hufflepuff girl's leg. The pair must've come over to see what the commotion was about.

Hermione looked on curiously. The girl couldn't have been more than nine. What was she doing at Hogwarts, then? She was lost in her thoughts, not seeing Smitt suddenly freeze and turn towards the girl.

The girl's eyes were focused on the blonde man. She was silent for a while, then, ever so quietly, spoke one word, "…Daddy?"

Smitt looked like he might have vomited in that second, before he finally spoke. "Oh my G…", followed by a whimper of his own, and then the last that made Hermione's heart skip a beat ."Angie…!"

"DADDY!" The girl yelled this time before bolting forward.

Hermione was already in tears when Smitt darted over in order to meet the girl halfway.

The man fell to his knees, hugged the girl to him, and promptly started sobbing in relief into the girl's neck. The girl was crying as well, latching onto her father as much as she could.

Hermione covered her mouth to keep from completely losing it. She didn't hold back her own tears of happiness that fell as she watched father and daughter reunite. She knew that if anyone who wasn't… destined for this danger that had fallen on them, deserved a happy ending, it was Smitt. And clearly, he had gotten it. She sniffled when Smitt pulled back slightly from the hug, only to press a long kiss to the girl's forehead before returning to the hug.

Smitt glanced up at the girl who Angie had been hiding behind, and realized he hadn't recognized his own niece, Rachel. He wondered if Angie had found her way to her aunt's home, and his sister and niece alike had ended up here and taken Angie with them. He opened one arm. "Come here, Rach…" He ordered weakly. The girl approached and he pulled the other girl into the hug as well.

Hermione glanced up at Scabior to find the man had his usual smirk, but it wasn't the sarcastic thing it usually was- there was appreciation and relief there, for the first time, as he watched his friend get part of his family back. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze

Hermione turned to Minerva and saw that she wasn't the only one in tears. She knew Minerva had filled in the blanks of what was going on in the situation with anything that made sense, on top of what they had all heard. She hated interrupting such an emotional moment for her professor, and she had a feeling that the reuinion might've given her the answer she wanted to hear, but she still needed to try. "Please… just… if you think it's absolutely necessary that they have to leave… then fine, but give them time to rest here for a little while…"

Apparently, Minerva didn't take offense to the girl's tone, anyway. She tore her eyes away from Smitt and Angie to address Hermione. "Yes, of course." She sent Scabior a warning look, not forgetting he was still a stranger with no reason to stay there, unlike the other. "Stay as long as you need, but if I even sense you about to start trouble…"

Scabior nodded absentmindeldly.

Minerva turned her attention back to Smitt. She placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.

Smitt moved his head ever so slightly so he could move one eye to look at her without letting go of Angie too much.

Minerva squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't you worry about intruding. You seem like the type that would. You just stay with your daughter."

Smitt nodded in acknowledgement before hugging Angie and Rachel.

Once inside, Hermione stayed close to Scabior, uncomfortably aware of the fact that they hadn't looking at her, then motioning at the door to the main corridor. She mouthed 'one minute' at them, and they reluctantly nodded.

Scabior looked at her. "So… that's in, then? It's really over?"

Hermione sighed. "Not yet…"

"What's left, then?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "That's a bit complicated, I'm afraid."

Scabior finally noticed Harry and Ron by the doors. "Your Ginger and Scarhead are waitin' for ya, Luv."

Hermione nodded. "I know." She leaned over quickly and kissed his cheek. "Be careful, alright?"

"Sounds like I'm not the one who needs to worry about that." Scabior countered.

Hermione smiled weakly again before she left to join Harry. She realized he was crying, and her heart went right back to sinking. She had a feeling what it was about- and if she was right, the next few minutes would be her own version of Hell.

* * *

**A/N:I'm aware Fred is dead by the scene I have him in. Buuut, Screw canon. I will never, ever, ever have Remus or Fred killed. Out of all the characters who died, those two… grr. I love them, so they're staying. I'm taking away Ron's girl from him, so I'm letting him keep his brother. There.**


	18. I Will Have to Slip Away

**A/N: I am soooo sorry for the even more giant wait. Other projects got in the way, then family drama up the wazoo, then back to other projects. I feel terrible since, including this chapter there's only two or max three if I get really creative with the second left in me, so… I'll try to get this one over and done with fast so I don't do that to you guys again.**

* * *

Scabior wrung his hands idly as he watched the people around the hall gather body after body. He felt useless but knew if he so much as tried to help he'd be shooed away. Smitty, on the other hand, had been helping with bodies for the last ten minutes. Even he looked uncomfortable out of place, but they welcomed him. He didn't look like a tyrant. He glanced up when he spotted the werewolf he had saved earlier walk over.

The werewolf hesitated before sitting next to him. "You know, I don't think there are any dividing lines with loyalty anymore. If you want to help us, help us."

"I hunted 'alf of you. I doubt I'll be welcome, loyalty aside."

"You think us all shallow fools," the werewolf mused.

Scabior shook his head. "No, just… understandably cautious," he looked around the hall. "Who'd you lose? How many?"

"My wife, countless friends, students…"

Scabior flinched. "Might not be worth much, but I'm sorry."

"It's enough," the man replied. "You know, people might want to start putting names to faces. You've been 'the Snatcher' the last hour-"

"Scabior. And you?"

"Remus,"

Scabior nodded.

Remus leaned over. "So, you're Hermione's rescuer…"

"You gonna threaten to sick the wolf on me?" Scabior countered, not knowing how he managed to find humor in everything when everything around him was dead or dying.

Remus, to his credit, managed a tired, sad smile. "Well, at least you're aware of your chances and how we'd all go about it in our own way."

They both turned when they heard someone yelling, and it was getting louder and louder, and then they finally managed to make out the words: "They're coming!"

Scabior turned sharply towards the door, as did Remus, and the latter uttered, "Nevile…" before standing slowly.

Neville skidded to a halt just inside the doors. "They're- the Death Eaters. Voldemort. They're here. They've got Hagrid, an-and Harry, and…" he trailed off, then ran back out.

Everyone in the room seemed to look around at each other before getting up and starting to file out of the room slowly.

Scabior followed, and then halfway to the door he spotted Hermione shoulder-to-shoulder with Ron. He made his way over and when she noticed him, he gave her a knowing, uneasy look.

She frowned and flinched, then reached for his hand and he took it carefully. He pretended not to notice the mistrusting look Ron shoot him. He led them out.

Within moments, Voldemort came into view and to everyone's horror, called out, "Harry Potter… is dead!"

Hermione heard Ginny scream and saw her run forward, and even she took a couple of steps forward, but Scabior put an arm halfway around her.

"Don't. You'll make this all worse," Scabior hissed.

"Stuid girl!" Voldemort snapped at Ginny, then looked at the crowd. "You put your faith in me." HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"

The Death Eaters laughed and he laughed too.

"Now, the time: come forward and join us… or die. Together."

Scabior looked at Hermione and tightened his grip. To his relief, she didn't budge. She was too transfixed on Draco as his parents called to him, and she looked stunned he was hesitating for so long. When Draco started to walk forward, Hermione shrank back.

"Well done, Draco!" Voldemort grinned and pulled the boy into a hug. Draco didn't respond. He just kept staring ahead at his parents, and when it was over he kept walking.

And then Neville advanced.

"Neville!" Hermione squeaked, advancing and backing up again.

"Well, I must admit I expected better. And who might you be young man?"

"Neville Longbottom…" Neville breathed, and flinched when the Death Eaters laughed.

"Well, Neville I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ranks."

"I'd like to say something…"

Made a fist. "Well I'm sure we're all fascinated to see what you have to say…"

Neville hesitated before looking up. "It doesn't matter that Harry's gone…"

"Stand down, Neville!" Seamus called.

Neville shook his head. "People die every day. Friends, family. Yeah, we still lost Harry tonight. He's still with us, in here…" he tapped his chest. "So's Tonks, Lavender, Moody… they didn't die in vain..." he jabbed a finger in Voldemort's direction. "But you will. 'Cause you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us! For all of us! It's not over!" And with that, he pulled Gryffindor's sword out from the Sorting Hat at his side.

Hermione let out a breath of a disbelieving laugh that turned full out genuine and nearly a scream when Harry suddenly launched himself out of Hagrid's arms.

There was a victorious roar from the Hogwarts crowd and the Death Eaters started disapparating as Harry took off and Voldemort started firing spells at him.

Scabior all but shoved Ron and Hermione back into the castle. "Go, go go go!"

And the crowd pushed on, trying to get as safe as possible even with their recovered advantage.

Hermione turned on him, then grabbed Ron. "I can't- we can't- we need- the snake's still around!"

Scabior paused, then shook his head. "Fine. But be careful, you hear me?" he countered.

Hermione smiled, pure relief still in her eyes. She jumped up to hug him before running off again. Scabior watched her, then helped one of the older students start to close one of the doors to the entrance. This was going to be a long few minutes or more, he knew that much.

It only made a small difference before the Death Eaters seemed to remember they could still apparate around and starting popping up inside the hall. He swore, shoved the student out of the way from a stray killing curse and scrambled on. Now he just had to worry about Smitty and Angie staying alive. And Hell, Remus wasn't so bad. He saw the ex-professor in the fray, then realized Smitty was the one back to back with him as they were backed into a corner. He fired off a couple of killing curses at the ones going after him and ran over, adding another angle to their formation. "You boys alright?" he called, turning just in time to see Bellatrix freeze in place, and then a redheaded woman fired off another spell and the bitch quite literally exploded. He tried to hide the satisfied smirk that the sight caused. He'd have to go thank the redhead later.

And then it was back to the battle for a matter of minutes, and then everything suddenly stopped. The Death Eaters froze. The spells stopped. The racket died out.

The remaining Death Eaters all started disapparated again, and there was dead silence as everyone waited to see if there was more danger to come. But there was nothing. No explosion, no message from Voldemort, everything was done. They all settled hesitantly.

"You don't think…" Smitt began.

"Oh, I think so," Remus replied, and another less tired smile graced his mouth.

"Think what?" Scabior asked.

"They've done it. Voldemort's gone. Why else would they all be leaving? The skies are clearing, too," Remus pointed out, motioning at the windows. When people started sitting down, he followed suit, merely squatting before sitting in place as well.

"Daddy?"

Smitt turned around abruptly when he heard Angie, then saw her wandering over with Minerva at her side. He opened his arms to let her hug him when she closed the distance between them. "It's okay now, Sweetie. I think," he looked at Minerva for an answer.

Minerva shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, but everything seems to be… over. I hope you weren't too worried about your daughter. You see, one of those bufoons got her in a corner, I got her out of trouble and she stayed with me the rest," she explained.

Smitt offered a laugh. "Professor, if you're half as scary as you were back in the day when I was here, that made her the safest kid in this room."

Minerva offered a gentle smile before hurrying off.

Smitt turned to Scabior before pulling him into a tight hug. "Did I mention I'm sorry for ever being an asshole to you, and I'm glad you're my best friend- and alive after all this?"

"All of what you said right back at you, Mate," Scabior replied, patting him on the back before pulling back. He held onto the man's forearms for a few extra moments before pulling back.

"Your girlfriend's here," Smitt added after a moment before taking Angie's hand. "Come on, Kiddo. Let's go find your cousin."

Scabior exhaled sharply, then spotted Hermione walking towards him. "Glad to see you in one piece, Love."

"Same to you," she replied.

"So… is it over?"

"It's over. It's all, all over," Hermione replied, hugging him again. "Neville got the snake, Harry got Voldemort… we barely know what to do with ourselves. Harry has another plan for… what comes next, but we needed to see everyone- make sure we didn't lose everyone else," she reached up to play with the red streak in his hair that had somehow perfectly matched a line of three cuts down his face. "I'm glad you're alright… for the most part."

"Me too," he offered, and smiled when Hermione laughed.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned back around, seeing Ron and Harry waiting for her. She huffed and looked back. "Sorry. Something tells me that they're not ever gonna exactly be okay with this…"

" 'S fine. It's expected. Look, you have to go be Scar Head's best friend and help finish saving our world. Go," he nodded at them.

Hermione sighed and stepped back. "Technically everyone owes you their lives, you know. You're entitled to stand up for yourself."

"Not yet, I'm not. It'll take a while, I think," Scabior replied. "Go on, before they accuse me of corrupting you."

Hermione offered another laugh and looked down, missing the sad look he gave her. "I'll be right back,"

"I'll hold you to that."

Hermione hurried off.

Scabior watched her yet again, then sighed heavily. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Now he had a plan. It was what he always did, it was self-preservation, but it was a plan all the same. It was going to hurt her, and he partially hated himself for it, and possibly never speak to him again. If there even was an opportunity for 'again.' His heart skipped a beat. He was actually going to do this. It was for the best. Really, it was. He'd hurt, but that way less people were hurt. He wanted to laugh. Months ago he would've taken the road that got more people hurt. War changed people, it was true. He squared his shoulders. No sense in delaying the inevitable. He got up and found Smitt again. "Oi! You!"

Smitt grinned and approached him. "I thought we already had our reunion!" he pointed out, but the grin dropped when he saw the man's frown. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it."

"I have to, Mate."

Smitt's own frown deepened. "You gonna run? After all of this?"

Scabior shrugged. "Well, I only have a handful of options with this one, don't I?"

"You're already convinced," Smitt realized.

The younger man nodded.

"Remind me why I put up with you?" Smitt asked.

"Because I'm devilishly handsome and have saved your ass too many times to count?"

Smitt's smile came back. "Good enough. So... how long?"

"No idea yet," Scabior replied. "Just… take care of 'er, will you?"

"You got it,"

Scabior nodded again slowly before awkwardly looking around before turning to leave.

"Hey!" Smitt called.

Scabior turned.

"I wasn't joking before. I love you, Brother. I really do. I need you to know that if you jump a little too much, or if I'm not involved in… wherever you're going. Take care of yourself, Scabs."

Scabior smiled weakly before mock-saluting and hurrying off again.

Smitt sat back down and sighed.

Angie walked over to him and sat beside him. "What was that about? Why is Uncle Scabbie leaving?"

"That… is a very confused man determined to right a bunch of wrongs, Sweetheart," Smitt replied.

"… Do you think he's gonna do it?" she asked.

"I hope so, Baby Girl. I really do…" he leaned his head on hers when she leaned on his arm. Now all that came was the letting-Hermione-know bit. He wasn't looking forward to that at all.

And then a few minutes passed, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were back in the room. Smitt stiffened and went into a well-disguised panic, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it, and then he saw her smile fade as she looked around and saw the room Scabior-less. But then came a knowing, sad smile. She spotted him and he sat up straight, completely failing at playing it cool since his elbow slipped off of his knee in the process.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Hermione asked.

Smitt hated himself as he only managed a curt nod.

"Did he say much else?" Hermione asked.

"Just made me promise to look after you is all," he replied.

Hermione shook her head. "He chose a fine time to grow a conscience."

Smitt chuckled in agreement, then shrugged. "Better late than never, I suppose."

"You think he'll be back? You think we'll ever see him again?" she asked.

"That… well, that's just up to him."

"If we tried hard enough, could we look for him?" Hermione asked.

"Not exactly, Sweetheart. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be."

"So we just wait?"

"We just wait," Smitt nodded.

Hermione leaned back against the wall. She had certainly not expected this outcome by the end of that night. Hell, she had expected any of their deaths- all of theirs. But now- now there was a giant missing hole when she thought of her friends, and she had no idea if she was going to get it back. She was furious because she knew that he knew she had lost so much and been through much. But the worst part was that she understood why- and all the possibly answers of why. She wondered if she should even bother waiting at that rate.

She decided he had taken several chances on her, so why the Hell not.

And so the waiting began.


	19. Epilogue

**A/N: Prepare for unintentionally sickeningly sweet ending and really, really random last bit. There was the one main scene planned, then it got away from me and I couldn't stop. I'm sorry. Really, I am, because it's not them them, but… yeah.**

* * *

When you had spent seven years of your life as the best friend of Harry Potter, risking your life time and time again, time went awfully slow once all of the trouble with Voldemort was over with. It had been okay for the first three. It was nothing but fallout from the war, and where there wasn't grief, there was celebration. The next three had been slower. The trio had drifted slightly, and Hermione blamed herself partly, with Harry and Ginny talking about starting a family and Ron attempting to find a woman for himself.

Ron had attempted to rekindle their… thing, however small it was. She felt horrible time and time again, but she refused him. She had entertained the idea, but in the long run, she knew that it might have been nice between them at the start, but then the arguments would've settled in after a while and made it near impossible to be civil with each other. She had been through far too much to settle for that.

And then Ginny had James and, according to Harry and Ginny, more children were to follow eventually. Within a year of that, Ron met Violet DeMille, and the pair were married within three years.

Hermione was lonely after a while- romantically, anyway. She had tried others instead of Ron- there was Kenneth, Robert, Hank, Orson, then Aaron, the one who had made it through a year with her before they had decided they weren't truly right for each other.

Of course, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville and the others had kept in contact. Even Smitt had stopped by her flat every once in a while, with a friendly smile and an update on Angie before asking what was new in her life.

Nothing ever was, really. She liked it that way after all the excitement she had had in her short life. Then again, coming up on age thirty wasn't exactly going to qualify as a 'short life' for much longer.

But as per usual, Fate had more excitement for Hermione Granger, although delayed.

She had spent most of the morning looking after James and Albus. She had barely been home an hour when there was a knock at her door. She paused and put down the book she was reading. She moved the curtains aside and glanced out the window to see who was there, only to find it was a bad angle and she couldn't see who the visitor was. She sighed and walked over to the door, opened it, and upon seeing who was on the other side, froze up entirely.

Scabior was on the other side of the threshold. He apparently hadn't aged a day since she had last seen him, but his hair was far more kept, his face was clean, and it looked as if he had retired the leather jacket she knew for a new, shorter one. And after a moment, he looked at her just like he had during their lighter times together.

There was dead silence for a while, until he did the speaking up. "Look, I… before you throw a fit because the ginger's in your life or some other bloke in which I'm gonna have to sniff him out for you, I've had a bloody long few days attempting to find you because I've been out of the job for… … … okay, well, technically a few days, but-" he stopped short when she yanked him down and kissed him.

She didn't exactly know what had possessed her to do it. Well, she had some idea. The fact that she hadn't been looked at that certain way in ages, she had missed their giant misadventure- missed _him_. She felt him start to give as good as he was getting and then finally scoffed at her own boldness before breaking off and moving back.

Scabior blinked at her, then paused. "So… that's a 'no' on the bloke front…?" he asked, then hesitantly reached up and wound a couple of stray locks of her hair around his finger. "How is it that I leave you for a time and you end up twice as bloody beautiful as I left you?"

Hermione let out another scoff, then stopped immediately once again. Now the anger was back. Without thinking, she punched him in the throat, though lighter than she would've preferred. "A time? A time?! Twelve years!"

Scabior finished righting himself, having stumbled back from the impact. He cleared his throat after a moment and ran his fingers up and down it before sighing. "Alright, I deserved that one…"

"You did!" Hermione insisted, then sighed and grabbed him by the jacket lapels and dragged him inside, giving a quick glance around the area to see if she had attracted any attention from the neighbors. She turned back when the coast was clear and closed and locked the door. She walked into the living room and faced him. "How?"

Scabior paused, then reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. He held his fist up after a moment and let the object drop and dangle from two of his fingers.

Hermione exhaled sharply once again, recognizing the time turner. "You had it?"

"You slipped it to me during the last fight… probably thought to give me a few moments head start on someone or something. I just held onto it. Took me quite a while to get the hang of it. It's right tricky, I'll give you that."

"And you just…?"

"Figured if you and I still stood a bloody chance I'd rather… do it right and just have my… morality questioned instead of having eyes for a bloody teenager on top of it," he replied. He glanced behind him, then collapsed back onto her couch, stretching out. "Had some difficulties finding you in muggle country without a bloody spot of magic around."

"Part of my job, actually. Have to revisit laws about wzards and witches living in mainly muggle areas and how certain regulations need to be made to protect both sides."

Scabior shrugged. "It don't sound very challenging for you."

"Effort's got nothing to do with it. Helping people does. I'm surprised you even got the information you did," she responded, then paused. "… Smitt, then?"

Scabior smirked, then nodded and gave his hand an overdramatic wave. "Smitty. Thought 'e was gonna keel over when he saw me. So, you caught me-still… what was it? The brightest witch of your age."

She let out a syllable's worth of a laugh in response and shrugged in appreciative guilt.

Figuring he was out of the danger zone, at least for that moment, he leaned back again. " So, Granger. Will you have a forced-into-retirement snatcher, now that the main complaint's… run its course? If you are… magical law enforcement, you could use a hand from someone who knows the other side, couldn't you?"

Hermione smiled again and shook her head. She took quite a bit of satisfaction in the fact that his eyebrows shot up when she edged over to the couch then got on it so her knees were framing his and she was hovering over his lap.

He, in turn, had half a thought to excuse himself to go take the time turner and go back to the time she was with whoever she was with when she had learned that and beaten the bloke to a bloody pulp for treading on what was apparently his territory now. Then again, without Mystery Boy, she wouldn't have known it, so he owed him at the same time. He finally got his answer when she leaned down for another kiss, and he realized he could've probably gotten used to that pretty quickly.

* * *

Even in the years following that, the pair weren't terribly romantic. Scabior wasn't the type, and Hermione didn't exactly know how to really do much in those matters. There was love there… eventually, but it was still more of a partnership- both a personal one and a business one. Not that there wasn't physical interest. It was there and those times were hardly a thing for either to complain about, but they had gotten by with less before, and that was how they handled it.

Her friends didn't exactly get their entire situation, but as far as they were concerned, the snatcher who had been after them once upon a time and had taken Hermione only for them to come back friends was now on their side and… well, fairly more mentally stable. They still weren't entirely sure where he was on the spectrum, being that his usual response for muggle technology that he didn't understand was taking it apart to study it or fix it and when that didn't work, blowing it to smithereens with a flick of his wand.

It didn't stop them from them saying the usual threat if he hurt their girl. They were, in fact, The Man Who Lived and his preferred company.

Another year later, the pair had an adopted son through no fault of their own.

Gabriel was a young boy who had been caught in the middle of a family feud between a magical family and a non-magical one, it had gotten ugly fast, the boy had fled and neither family had been ruled as suited to keep him afterward. He had taken a particular shine to her when she talked to him about it, and what had begun as two weeks in her care turned into months and on.

Scabior wasn't fond of the boy at first. He was no more than six, so he whined too much and thought he needed far too much attention, took too much of Hermione's free time- he was competition.

But eventually the boy picked up sarcasm from somewhere. After a small group boys Gabriel's age had ganged up on him and he had punched the leader, that had been it. Hermione was mortified and had scolded him, but Scabior couldn't have been more proud and let the boy know.

Joint parenting had been quickly added to the list of things they needed to work on.

Another few years later and Gabriel had joined his half cousins in Hogwarts, joining Neville and Luna's youngest, Kara, in Ravenclaw.

They were a rag-tag family, and quite the dysfunctional one, but it worked.

The entire family was happy for the time being.

That was, until a handful of the younger generation of Death Eaters and their older counterparts' decendants re-surfaced.

But that was a story for another time.


End file.
